DISRAELI 


THE  GEORGE  E.  LASK  COLLECl 

DISRAELI 

A  PLAY 


BY 

LOUIS   N.  PARKER 

AUTHOR   OP    "  POMANDER    WALK  "    AND    "  THE    CARDINAI 


NEW  YORK 

JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 
MCMXVIII 


Copyright,  1911,  by 
JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 


TO 

GEORGE  ARLISS 
IN  FRIENDSHIP  AND  ADMIRATION 


2013900 


ENDORSED 

BY    THE 

DRAMA    LEAGUE    OF   AMERICA 


NOTE 

This  is  not  an  historical  play,  but  only  an  attempt 
to  show  a  picture  of  the  days — not  so  very  long 
ago — in  which  Disraeli  lived,  and  some  of  the  racial, 
social,  and  political  prejudices  he  fought  against  and 
conquered. 

"  Disraeli "  was  first  produced  at  the  Princess 
Theatre,  Montreal,  under  the  management  of  Messr?. 
Liebler  and  Co.,  on  Monday  evening,  January  23, 
1911,  with  the  following  cast  :  — 

The  Duke  of  Glastonbury  ....  CHARLES  CAREY 

The  Duchess  of  Glastonbury  .    .    .  LEILA  REPTON 

Clarissa,  Lady  Pevensey     ....  ELSIE  LESLIE 

Charles,  Viscount  Deeford  ....  COURTENAY  FOOTE 

Adolphus,  Viscount  Cudworth    .    .  GEOFFREY  DOUGLAS 

Lady  Cudworth CONSTANCE  KIRKHAM 

Lord  Brooke  of  Brookehill      .    .    .  GUY  CUNNINGHAM 

Lady  Brooke       JOSEPHINE  BERNHARDT 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Benjamin  Disraeli     .  GEORGE  ARLISS 

Lady  Beaconsfield MARGUERITE  ST.  JOHN 

Mrs.  Noel  Travers MARGARET  DALE 

Sir  Michael  Probert,  Bart.      .    .    .  DAVID  TORRANCE 

Mr.  Hugh  Meyers J.  L.  MACKAY 

Mr.  Lumley  Foljambe ALEXANDER  CALVERT 

Mr.  Tearle,  Disraeli's  Secretary  .    .  DUDLEY  DIGGES 

Butler  at  Glastonbury  Towers    .    .  HARRY  CHESSMAN 

Footman  at  Glastonbury  Towers    .  RUTHERFORD  HERMAN 

Bascot,  Disraeli's  Butler DOUGLAS  Ross 

Potter,  Disraeli's  Gardener     .    .    .  ST.  CLAIR  BAYFIELD 

Flooks,  a  Rural  Postman    ....  WILFRID  SEAGRAM 


NOTE  (Continued) 

The  play  was  then  transferred,  by  way  of  Detroit, 
Toledo,  and  Columbus,  to  the  Grand  Opera  House, 
Chicago,  where  it  ran  from  February  13  to  April  29, 
1911. 

It  was  first  produced  in  New  York,  at  Wallack's 
Theatre,  on  Monday  evening,  September  18,  1911, 
with  the  following  cast  :  — 

The  Duke  of  Glastonbury  ....  CHARLES  CARET 

The  Duchess  of  Glastonbury  .     .    .  LEILA  REPTON 

Clarissa,  Lady  Pevensey     ....  ELSIE  LESLIE 

Charles,  Viscount  Deeford  ....  IAN  MACLAREN 

Adolphus,  Viscount  Cudworth     .    .  J.  R.  TORRENS 

Lady  Cudworth FRANCES  REEVE 

Lord  Brooke  of  Brookehiil      .    .    .  GUT  CUNNINGHAM 

Lady  Brooke MARIE  R.  QUINN 

The  Rt.  Hon.  Benjamin  Disraeli     .  GEORGE  ARLISS 

Lady  Beaconsfield MARGUERITE  ST.  JOHN 

Mrs.  Noel  Travers MARGARET  DALE 

Sir  Michael  Probert,  Bart.       .    .    .  HERBERT  STANDING 

Mr.  Hugh  Meyers OSCAR  ADYE 

Mr.  Lumley  Foljambe ALEXANDER  CALVERT 

Mr.  Tearle,  Disraeli's  Secretary  .    .  DUDLEY  DIGGES 

Butler  at  Glastonbury  Towers    .    .  HARRY  CHESSMAN 

Footman  at  Glastonbury  Towers    .  RUTHERFORD  HERMAN 

Bascot,  Disraeli's  Butler     ....  DOUGLAS  Ross 

Potter,  Disraeli's  Gardener     ...  ST.  CLAIR  BAYFIELD 

Flooks,  a  Rural  Postman    .    .    .    .  W.  MAYNE  LYNTON 

To  all  the  Ladies  and  Gentlemen  of  both  these 
admirable  casts,  and  to  the  Management,  which  gave 
me  a  free  hand  in  producing  the  play,  I  herewith  offer 
my  sincere  thanks.  L.  N.  P. 


DISRAELI 


THE  CHARACTERS  IN  THE  PLAY 

THE  DUKE  OF  GLASTONBUBY 

THE  DUCHESS  OF  GLASTONBUBT 

CLARISSA,  LADY  PEVENSET 

CHARLES,  VISCOUNT  DEEFORD 

ADOLPHUS,  VISCOUNT  CUDWORTH 

LADY  CUDWORTH 

LORD  BROOKE  OF  BROOKEHILL 

LADY  BROOKE 

THE  RT.  HON.  BENJAMIN  DISRAELI,  M.  P. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD 

MRS.  NOEL  TRAVERS 

SIR  MICHAEL  PROBERT,  BART. 

MR.  HUGH  MEYERS 

MR.  LUMLEY  FOLJAMBE 

MR.  TEARLE 

BUTLER  AT  GLASTONBURY  TOWEBS 

BASCOT,  DISRAELI'S  BUTLER 

POTTER,  DISRAELI'S  GARDENER 

FLOORS,  A  RURAL  POSTMAN 

A  FOOTMAN 

DIPLOMATS;  ENGLISH  AND  FOREIGN  NAVAL  AND  MOJTABT 
OFFICERS;  LORDS  AND  LADIES;  LIVERIED  SERVANTS;  ETC.,  ETC. 


DISRAELI 

ACT  I 

SCENE  —  At  Glastonbury   Towers 

The  octagonal  room  at  Glastonbury  Towers.  It  is  a 
small  room  between  the  breakfast  room  on  the  left,  and 
one  of  the  drawing-rooms  on  the  right.  Large  folding 
doors  lead  to  each.  CHARLES  and  the  DUKE  are  seen 
through  the  doors  on  the  left,  seated  at  the  breakfast 
table  in  conversation.  The  room  is  richly  furnished. 
At  the  back  two  large  French  windows  open  into  the 
gardens.  Through  them  one  end  of  a  croquet  lawn  is 
visible.  A  small  casement  of  the  centre  window  is  open. 

[The  large  doors  on  the  right  and  left  are  closed  when 
the  curtain  rises.  The  babble  of  conversation  in  [the 
breakfast  room  is  heard.  The  doors  R.  are  thrown  open 
and  a  FOOTMAN,  bearing  a  copy  of  the  "Times"  on  a 
salver,  enters.  He  puts  it  on  a  small  table.  At  that 
moment  the  doors  left  are  thrown  open  by  the  BUTLER, 
and  enter  the  DUCHESS,  followed  by  LADY  CUDWORTH 
and  LORD  CUDWORTH;  also  LORD  BROOKE,  who  re- 
mains on  the  left  reading  paper] 

[The  DUCHESS  is  at  work  on  an  elaborate  piece  of 
embroidery,  a  copy  of  Landseer's  "Dignity  and  Impu- 
dence" in  violent  wools.  The  other  characters  wander 
listlessly  in  and  out  —  some  carrying  very  small  croquet 
mallets] 


DISRAELI 

ADOLPHTTS  [Following  LADY  CTJDWOBTH  and  the 
DUCHESS]  And  are  we  going  to  Balmoral  this  autumn, 
Duchess? 

DUCHESS  [Sitting  on  ottoman]  The  dear  Queen  has 
expressed  a  wish  that  we  should  come  in  October. 

[The  FOOTMAN  bows  to  DUCHESS,  and  exit  left  door] 

LADY  CUDWOBTH.  Oh,  Dolly,  I  shall  want  a  thou- 
sand pounds  for  gowns. 

ADOLPHUS.     A  thousand  pounds?    I  'm  sorry  I  spoke. 

BROOKE  [Reading]  Oh,  I  say !  Blondin  's  dancing 
the  tight  wope  at  the  Cwystal  Palath  again. 

LADY  CUDWORTH  [Laughing]  Oh,  he's  sure  to  break 
his  neck. 

BROOKE.  Well,  he  gets  a  thousand  pounds  for  it 
evewy  time. 

ADOLPHUS.    Wish  I  was  Blondin. 

DUCHESS.     For  shame!  —  Ermyntrude,  your  back! 

LADY  CUDWORTH.    Yes,  mamma.    [Stiffens  herself] 

[Enter  LADY  BROOKE  from  the  drawing-room  on 
the  right] 

LADY  BROOKE  [Coming  behind  ottoman  and  kissing 
the  DUCHESS]  Good  morning,  mamma.  Has  every- 
body finished  breakfast? 

DUCHESS.  7  have.  Your  father  is  still  eating  — 
or  talking. 

LADY  BROOKE.  Here  he  conies,  mamma,  with 
Deeford. 

DUCHESS.    Talking.    It  had  to  be  one  or  the  other. 

[LORD   DEEFORD   and   the  DUKE  enter  from  the 
breakfast  room] 

CHARLES.    Tfes!    I    shall    build    model    cottages. 
After  all,  a  happy  peasantry  is  the  backbone  of  England. 
12 


DISRAELI 

DUKE.  D'  ye  know  what  yer  happy  peasantry  '11  do, 
Deeford?  They  '11  sell  yer  drain  pipes  for  old  lead;  use 
yer  staircase  for  fire-wood  and  keep  pigs  in  yer  pantry. 

CHARLES.     Then  I  shall  turn  them  out. 

DUKE.  Ay  —  and  be  held  up  to  public  execration 
as  a  harsh  landlord. 

DUCHESS.  The  lower  orders  do  not  appreciate 
comfort.  Hildegarde,  a  cushion!  [LADY  BROOKE 
arranges  a  cushion  for  her] 

LADY  BROOKE.  Mamma,  do  you  think  Deeford  will 
speak  to  Clarissa  to-day? 

DUCHESS.  Hildegarde!  —  He  has  not  approached 
me,  yet! 

LADY  CUDWORTH.    Will  she  accept  him? 

DUCHESS.    Of  course. 

LADY  BROOKE.     Oh,  I  don't  know.     She's  so  funny. 

DUCHESS.     I  trust  no  child  of  mine  was  ever  funny. 

LADY  CUDWORTH  [Coming  down  languidly  to  R.  of 
DUCHESS]  Does  anyone  know  how  Lady  Beacons- 
field  is  this  morning? 

DUCHESS.  I  sent  Mrs.  Travers  to  inquire.  I 
have  no  doubt  she  is  quite  well. 

LADY  CUDWORTH.  Then  I  sha'n't  have  to  go  up 
and  see  her.  So  glad  —  hate  climbing  stairs. 

LADY  BROOKE.  So  horrid  of  her  to  faint,  just  as  I 
was  weading  aloud! 

BROOKE.    Oh,  I  don't  know  —  it  did  stop  you! 

DUCHESS  [Peremptorily]     Brooke! 

[Enter  MRS.  TRAVERS,  a  charming  and  very  smart 
young  woman,  from  the  drawing-room  on  the 
right.  She  has  a  fan  in  her  hand] 

MRS.  .  TRAVERS    [Gushingly,    to    everybody]      Good 
morning  —  good   morning!     [Everybody  responds;  par- 
13 


DISRAELI 

ticularly  the  DUKE,  who  then  sits  L.  of  table  and 
reads] 

DUCHESS.  Ah!  —  I  was  just  talking  about  you, 
Mrs.  Travers.  How  is  —  er  —  Mr.  Disraeli's  wife? 
Quite  well,  I'm  sure. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Lady  Beaconsfield  says  she  is  much 
better  this  morning. 

DUCHESS.    Quite  well.    I  said  so. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Dear  Duchess!  So  sympathetic! 
—  Already  at  your  artistic  work! 

DUCHESS.     It  helps  me  to  think. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Admiringly]  Oh!  And  what  do 
you  think  of? 

DUCHESS  [Innocently]    Nothing. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Your  mind  must  be  fully  oc- 
cupied —  [The  DUCHESS  looks  up]  with  so  many 
guests. 

DUCHESS.  Why,  we  have  only  our  two  elder  girls 
and  their  husbands,  Charles  —  Viscount  Deeford,  you 
know  —  and  Sir  Michael  Probert. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  The  Governor  of  the  Bank  of 
England!  —  You  have  forgotten  Mr.  Disraeli  and  his 
wife. 

[.4  FOOTMAN  enters  from  breakfast  room  with  two 
letters  on  a  salver.  LADY  CUDWORTH  takes  a 
letter.  He  brings  the  other  to  MRS.  TRAVERS] 

DUCHESS  [Acidly]    They  are  not  my  friends. 

DUKE  [Warningly]    Belinda  —  they  are  our  guests. 

DUCHESS.     Yes.     I  cannot  help  wondering  why. 

ADOLPHUS  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS]  Been  for  a  walk 
this  morning? 

MRS.   TRAVERS  [Taking   letter  from   FOOTMAN   and 
turning  to  CUDWORTH]     Yes.     Every  morning. 
14 


DISRAELI 

ADOLPHUS.  How  awful!  [Turns  up  stage  and  joins 
LADY  CUDWOHTH] 

MBS.  TRAVEBS.  I  have  not  seen  Sir  Michael  Pro- 
bert  yet. 

DUCHESS.  He  only  arrived  late  last  night.  He 
had  breakfast  in  his  rooms,  and  now  he  is  busy  with 
his  correspondence. 

CHARLES.  Duchess,  are  we  not  to  see  Lady  Clarissa 
this  morning? 

DUCHESS.    Has  Clarissa  not  breakfasted? 

LADY  CUDWORTH.  Oh,  she  had  a  cup  of  tea  at 
eight  o'clock  and  went  for  a  walk  in  the  home-park 
with  Mr.  Disraeli.  [CHARLES  shows  annoyance,  which 
the  DUCHESS  observes] 

CHARLES.  And  Mrs.  Disraeli  —  I  beg  pardon  — 
I  should  say,  Lady  Beaconsfield  —  ? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Smiling  maliciously]  Lady  Beacons- 
field  is  not  down  yet.  [CHARLES  catches  MRS.  TRAV- 
ERS' eye  and  again  shows  annoyance] 

DUCHESS  [Hastily]  It  is  not  unusual.  Clarissa 
likes  these  early  walks.  When  we  are  alone,  she  goes 
to  the  vicarage  and  back  every  morning. 

CHARLES.    Two  miles!    How  strenuous! 

DUCHESS.     She  reads  Greek  with  the  Vicar. 

[The  BROOKES  are  seen  on  the  lawn  playing  croquet] 

CHARLES.  I  am  not  sure  that  a  young  lady  should 
read  Greek. 

LADY  CUDWORTH.    Will  you  play  cwoquet,  Deeford? 

CHARLES.  I  am  —  ah  —  averse  to  violent  exercise 
at  such  a  matutinal  hour. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     So  like  my  poor  dear  husband. 

DUCHESS.    How  is  your  husband,  Agatha? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Alluding  to  the  letter  she  is  reading] 
15 


DISRAELI 

Noel?  —  Oh,  just  the  same.     He  writes  he  is  moving 
from  Carlsbad  to  Kissingen. 

CHARLES.  When  do  you  expect  to  see  him?  When 
will  he  be  in  town? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Never.  He  wanders  from  one 
watering-place  to  another. 

CHARLES.    I  trust  he  derives  benefit  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  None  whatever.  All  the  waters 
disagree  with  him.  He  develops  new  symptoms  every- 
where, and  has  to  go  somewhere  else  to  change  them. 
I  ought  to  be  with  him  now  —  [Rising]  but  we  are  so 
dreadfully  poor  — 

CHARLES.  Oh,  come!  Those  exquisite  diamonds 
last  night  — 

DUKE  [Stirring  uncomfortably  behind  his  newspaper] 
Ha  —  hum! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Heirlooms.  We  are  poor,  but  we 
have  ancestors.  Ah!  You  are  looking  at  my  frock. 
You  don't  know  what  shifts  a  poor  little  woman  is 
driven  to.  This  cost  me  nothing.  Worth  knows  what 
circles  I  move  in,  and  considers  me  his  best  advertise- 
ment. [With  an  appealing  glance  at  the  DUCHESS] 
There!  Now  you  despise  me. 

DUCHESS.  Nonsense,  Agatha  There's  nothing  to 
be  ashamed  of  in  having  a  good  figure. 

DUKE.    Heah !    Heah ! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Oh,  Duchess,  you  are  always  so 
kind.  You  know  how  poor  I  am. 

DUCHESS.    Poor  dear  thing,  yes. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  But  one  has  one's  position  to 
keep  up;  and  one  must  look  nice. 

DUKE.  You  do.  You  do.  Charmin'.  Char — 
[Catches  the  DUCHESS'S  eye  and  collapses  behind  his 
paper}  —  hum! 

16 


DISRAELI 

[Enter  the  BUTLER,  with  telegrams  on  a  salver.  He, 
looks  about  him,  evidently  in  search  of  someone] 

DUCHESS.    For  me? 

BUTLER.    Telegrams  for  Mr.  Disraeli,  your  Grace. 

DUCHESS  [Acidly]     He  is  not  here. 

BUTLER  [Helplessly]    No,  your  Grace.      [He  stands 
irresolute] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Eagerly;   on  the  point  of  taking  the 
telegrams]     I  think  I  could  find  him! 

DUCHESS   [Sharply]     Certainly  not,   Agatha!      [To 
the  BUTLER]    That  will  do. 

[Exit  BUTLER] 

DUCHESS.     Dispatches,  messages,  telegrams!     One 
has  no  peace,  with  that  man  in  the  house! 

DUKE.     Come,  come,  Belinda! 

[LADY  BROOKE  has  been  seen  with  BROOKE  on  the 
lawn  outside.  She  is  reading  to  him.  They 
enter  through  the  window.  He  is  bored  to  death] 

LADY  BROOKE. 

I  know  not  what  I  was  playing 

Or  what  I  was  dreaming  then, 
But  I  struck  one  chord  of  music 

Like  the  sound  of  a  great  Amen. 

[The  DUKE  rises  irritably] 

BROOKE.    Oh,  I  say!    That's  stunning!   [He  moves 
away] 

DUCHESS  [Severely]     Hildegarde,  I  hope  that  is  not 
Tennyson! 

[MRS.  TRAVERS  rises  to  hide  her  laughter  and  join* 

the  DUKE] 

LADY  BROOKE.    Oh,  no,  mamma!    It's  dear  Ad» 
laide  Anne  Procter. 

17 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES  [Booming]  Surely,  the  Idyls  of  the  King 
is  the  greatest  poem  ever  written! 

DUCHESS  [Stiffly]  I  have  not  read  it.  I  do  not 
allow  my  daughters  to  read  it. 

LADY  CUD  WORTH  AND  LADY  BROOKE  [Together; 
demurely]  No,  mamma. 

DUKE  [Aside  to  MRS.  TRAVERS]  Belinda 's  not  to 
be  trifled  with  —  what?  Purity  of  the  home  —  eh? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    Ah  —  there's  no  place  like  home. 

DUKE.    Thank  God! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    Hush!    Naughty! 

LADY  CUD  WORTH  [To  the  DUCHESS;  very  innocently] 
How  papa  does  admire  a  pretty  face! 

DUCHESS  [To  CHARLES]  Charles,  take  Mrs.  Trav- 
ers  into  the  garden.  You  may  meet  Clarissa. 

CHARLES.  I  want  very  much  to  speak  to  you, 
Duchess. 

DUCHESS.    Well  —  ? 

CHARLES.    Alone,  if  it  were  possible. 

DUCHESS.  Oh!  [Looks  meaningly  ai  LU*DY  CUD- 
WORTH]  Well,  come  back  in  a  few  minutes. 

CHARLES.  Thank  you.  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS]  Will 
you  come?  [Booms]  I  will  tell  you  about  my  scheme 
for  model  cottages.  [MRS.  TRAVERS  rises  and  joins 
him] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    Oh,  how  absorbing! 

[They  go  out,  through  the  window,  and  are  seen  on 
the  lawn] 

DUKE  [After  a  pause;  swinging  his  chair  round  and 
putting  down  his  paper}  Belinda,  I  should  be  grate- 
ful if  you  would  not  speak  of  Mr.  Disraeli  as  you 
do.  I  have  told  you  —  I  invited  him  for  political 
reasons. 

18 


DISRAELI 

DUCHESS  [Engrosaed  in  her  embroidery]  I  believe 
a  Mr.  Joseph  Arch  —  an  estimable  agricultural  laborer 
—  is  agitating  in  Somersetshire.  Do  you  propose  to 
invite  him  —  for  political  reasons? 

DUKE  [Rising]  'Tsha!  You  are  vexatious!  As  if 
there  could  be  any  comparison! 

DUCHESS.  I  grant  it  would  be  all  in  Mr.  Arch's 
favor.  Arch  is  a  good  Saxon  name.  I  should  not  be 
surprised  if  he  could  trace  his  ancestry  much  farther 
back  than  yours  —  [DuKE  turns  his  back  impatiently] 
Moreover,  he  is  a  Christian. 

DUKE  [Turning  to  her  quickly]    So  is  — 

DUCHESS  [Deliberately]  Benjamin  Disraeli?  It  does 
not  sound  probable. 

DUKE  [Flustered]    He  is  the  brains  of  the  party. 

DUCHESS.    Brains  do  not  give  birth. 

DUKE.    He  has  achieved  a  high  position. 

DUCHESS.  By  wearing  satin  waistcoats  and  marry- 
ing an  old  woman  for  her  money! 

DUKE  [Coming  down]  Belinda!  Yer  not  going  to 
say  anything  against  Lady  Beaconsfield? 

DUCHESS.    Only  one  thing. 

DUKE.    What? 

DUCHESS.    She  married  Disraeli. 

DUKE.  Belinda!  [Seeing  BUTLER  who  has  come  on 
with  another  telegram]  I  —  I  have  no  patience. 

[Exit  into  garden] 

DUCHESS  [To  BUTLER]    Yes? 

BUTLER.    Mr.  Disraeli,  your  Grace. 

DUCHESS.    More  telegrams? 

BUTLER.  And  there  's  a  newspaper  person  in  the 
'all  askin'  for  'im. 

DUCHESS.    I  have  told  you!    Mr.  Disraeli  is  not  in. 

[Exit  BUTLER] 
19 


DISRAELI 

[The  DUCHESS  rises  impatiently.     Enter  CHARLES 
from  the  garden] 

CHARLES.    Are  you  alone? 

DUCHESS.     Yes.     But  I  am  out  of  temper. 

CHARLES.    Oh,  Duchess! 

DUCHESS.  That  Mr.  Disraeli!  —  He  turns  our  house 
into  a  public  thoroughfare,  and  now  there  's  a  news- 
paper person  in  the  hall! 

CHARLES.  Shall  I  dismiss  the  —  ah  —  newspaper 
person? 

DUCHESS.  No,  no!  [Sits]  What  have  you  done 
with  Agatha? 

CHARLES.  When  the  Duke  joined  us,  I  thought  I 
might  slip  away. 

DUCHESS  [Smiling  in  anticipation]  Well,  now, 
Charles,  what  is  it? 

CHARLES.    I  think  you  can  guess. 

DUCHESS.     Perhaps.     But  assume  I  cannot. 

CHARLES.  When  I  accepted  your  delightful  invi- 
tation, I  did  so  with  a  purpose. 

DUCHESS.    Yes? 

CHARLES.  I  have  been  thinking  very  seriously 
lately,  Duchess;  and  I  have  concluded  that  it  is  my 
duty  to  get  married. 

DUCHESS.    How  old  are  you? 

CHARLES.  Twenty-five.  But  I  am  thinking  of 
my  wife  more  than  of  myself.  She  will  have  to  face 
heavy  responsibilities  in  the  near  future. 

DUCHESS.     Surely,  your  father  is  in  good  health? 

CHARLES.     Excellent;  but  his  habit  of  life  does  not 

encourage  the  hope  of  extreme  longevity.     Briefly,  I  ask 

permission  to  pay  my  respectful    addresses  to  Lady 

Fevensey.     May  I  hope  you  and  the  Duke  will  grant  it? 

20 


DISRAELI 

DUCHESS.  If  I  grant  it,  the  Duke  will.  But 
Clarissa  is  barely  twenty. 

CHARLES.  I  shall  have  all  the  better  chance  of 
moulding  her. 

DUCHESS.  She  is  very  high-spirited.  She  displays 
a  note  of  originality.  She  takes  no  interest  in  em- 
broidery, for  instance.  She  gave  up  her  music  lessons 
with  Arabella  Goddard.  And  what  reason  do  you 
think  she  offered?  She  said  she  was  too  musical, 
and  Arabella  Goddard  was  not  musical  enough! 

CHARLES  [With  amused  superiority]  These  amiable 
eccentricities  do  not  alarm  me.  Remember,  she  will 
be  constantly  in  my  society. 

DUCHESS  [Quite  simply]  Yes;  that  ought  to  sober 
her. 

CHARLES.  May  I  take  it,  then,  that  you  graciously 
consent? 

DUCHESS.  Joyfully,  Charles;  joyfully!  I  shall  be 
very  happy  to  hear  she  has  accepted  you. 

CHARLES.  You  shall  hear  that  to-day!  [He  takes 
her  hands  and  kisses  them  formally,  then  he  rises  and 
bows]  Thank  you!  Thank  you! 

[Enter  through  the  window,  the  DUKE  and  LADY 
BEACONSFIELD,  followed  by  MRS.  TRAVERS] 

DUKE  [Coming  down  apprehensively]  Here  is  Lady 
Beaconsfield,  Belinda. 

DUCHESS  [Coldly]     Ah  —  good  morning. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Very  genially]  Good  morn- 
ing, Duchess. 

DUCHESS.  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  are  much 
better. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Thank  you.    I  am  looking 
for  my  scapegrace  husband. 
21 


DISRAELI 

DUCHESS.  I  believe  he  is  in  the  home-park  with 
Clarissa. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  There  never  was  a  man 
with  such  an  instinct  for  youth  and  beauty. 

DUCHESS  [With  raised  eyebrows]     Indeed? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Laughing]  I  know  what  you 
mean  by  "indeed."  You  wonder  why  the  instinct 
failed  him  when  he  married  me. 

DUCHESS.    I  assure  you  —  ! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Oh,  I  don't  mind  in  the 
least.  [With  enthusiasm]  The  greatest  man  in  the 
world  is  my  husband,  and  I  don't  really  care  how  or 
why. 

DUCHESS  [Drily]    Very  right  and  proper. 
r   LADY    BEACONSFIELD.    Has    Sir    Michael    Probert 
been  seen  this  morning?    I  know  Dizzy  is  anxious  to 
meet  him. 

[MRS.    TRAVERS    listens   interestedly.    LORD    and 
LADY  BROOKE  come  in  from  the  garden] 

DUCHESS  [Icily]  The  Governor  of  the  Bank  of 
England  is  naturally  much  occupied,  even  in  the 
vacation. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Simply]  So  is  the  Prime 
Minister;  especially  when  he  seems  to  be  playing. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  The  Governor  of  the  Bank  of 
England!  Oh!  if  he'd  give  me  the  run  of  his  cellars 
for  five  minutes! 

[LORD  and  LADY  CUDWORTH  come  in] 

DUKE  [Chuckling;   to  her  and  tapping  her  with  her 
fan,  with  which  he  has  been,  playing]    I  know  you  could 
make  him  —  ha-ha-ha!    X  know  you  could!    You  have 
only  to  flirt  your  fan  at  him! 
22 


DISRAELI 

DUCHESS     [Shocked]       Duke!  —  Agatha! 
starts,  and  goes  to  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

MBS.  TRAVEKS  [Sitting  beside  the  DUCHESS]  Oh, 
dear  Duchess,  that  was  only  a  joke. 

DUCHESS.     I  do  not  care  for  that  sort  of  joke. 

CHARLES  [Ponderously]  I  fear  the  run  of  the 
cellars  would  not  be  of  much  use  to  you.  The  num- 
bers of  the  notes  are  known,  and  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Rising  and  going  to  him,  demurely] 
Yes.  You  don't  like  jokes  either,  do  you? 

CHARLES  [Posing]  Humour  is  of  several  kinds.  We 
Oxford  men  have  a  humour  of  our  own. 

[Enter  CLARISSA  from  the  garden,  loaded  with  flowers. 
She  comes  in  with  a  rush] 

CLARISSA.     Good  morning,  everybody! 

CHARLES.     Lady  Pevensey! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     Clarissa!  [Together] 

DUCHESS.     My  dear  child! 

CLARISSA  [Tossing  the  flowers  aside,  and  coming  to 
her  mother]  Oh,  mother!  I'm  so  excited! 

DUCHESS.  I  wish  I  could  persuade  you  never  to  be 
excited. 

CLARISSA.  Then  you  should  n't  have  the  greatest 
man  in  the  world  to  stay  here.  [CHARLES  shows 
annoyance] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  There!  She  calls  him  the 
greatest  man  in  the  world,  too! 

CLARISSA  [Coming  to  her,  and  taking  both  her  hands] 
Oh,  you  happy  woman!  Always  to  be  with  him!  To 
be  the  first  to  know  his  thoughts!  Oh,  you  happy 
woman! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Kissing  her]  That's  what  I 
keep  on  saying,  my  dear. 

23 


DISRAELI 

CLARISSA.  He  transforms  everything  he  touches. 
fie  even  turns  the  landscape  into  fairyland.  A  prim- 
rose by  a  river's  brim  is  not  merely  a  yellow  primrose 
to  him,  but  the  text  for  beautiful  fancies. 

CHARLES  [Booming]  It  is  an  open  question  whether 
a  statesman  should  indulge  in  fancies! 

[CLARISSA  gives  him  a  look  which  ought  to  warn  him 
he  is  ^treading  on  dangerous  ground.  But  he  is 
too  absorbed  in  his  own  righteousness  to  notice  it] 

DUKE  [Absent-mindedly  —  looking  at  paper.  To 
CLARISSA]  But  come,  come!  What  have  you  done 
with  Dizzy?  [To  LADY  BEACONSFIELD]  Hum!  I  beg 
your  pardon! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  You  need  n't.  I  call  him 
Dizzy  because  I  love  him.  The  world  calls  him  Dizzy 
because  it  loves  him.  That  nickname  is  nobler  than 
a  peerage. 

DUKE.  Ah  — !  I  won't  apologize  again.  Where 
is  he? 

CLARISSA.    He's  gone  to  feed  the  peacocks. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Laughing]  Oh!  Peacocks  and 
swans!  —  he  positively  dotes  on  them!  Hughenden  is 
quite  over-run  with  them. 

ADOLPHUS.  Extraordinary  personality,  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli's. Sort  of  man  you  feel  come  into  a  room,  even 
if  you  don't  see  him. 

CHARLES  [Crossly]    That's  nonsense,  Dolly. 

BROOKE.  Wubbish,  Dolly!  Nobody  takes  any  no- 
tice when  7  come  into  the  woom! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    I  'm  yearning  to  hear  him  speak. 

DUCHESS.    Why,  Agatha? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Everybody  tells  me  he  says  such 
wonderful  things. 

84' 


DISRAELI 

CLARISSA  [Enthusiastically]  So  he  does.  Wonder- 
ful and  beautiful. 

[DISRAELI  enters  from  the  garden,  carrying  a  small 
bunch  of  flowers] 

DISRAELI.  Duchess,  your  peacocks  are  moulting. 
They  want  more  food  and  less  water. 

DUCHESS.     I  do  not  attend  to  animals. 

DISRAELI.  Then  I  fear  you  miss  a  great  deal  of 
pathetic  affection.  [Then,  to  the  others]  Good  morning, 
Mary  —  Good  morning  —  Duke  —  Ah,  Mrs.  Travers? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Smiling]  Did  you  have  a  pleasant 
walk  with  Clarissa? 

DISRAELI.  Delightful.  Winter,  hand  in  hand  with 
Spring.  Innocence,  with  — 

CHARLES  [Sarcastically]    Guile  —  ? 

DISRAELI.     Experience.     Same  thing. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     And  those  charming  flowers  —  ? 

DISRAELI  [To  LADY  BEACONSFIELD]  Mary,  my 
dear;  your  morning  tribute!  [He  hands  her  the  flowers, 
and  then  kisses  her,  much  to  the  disgust  of  the  others] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Thank  you,  Dizzy!  [To  the 
others]  Every  morning  of  his  life  —  wherever  we 
are  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Laughing]  How  ungallant  to  omit 
us! 

DISRAELI.  My  homage  to  Lady  Beaconsfield,  is  a 
homage  to  the  entire  sex. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Protesting  laughingly]  No,  no, 
Dizzy!  I  won't  be  put  off  like  that!  It's  a  personal 
love-token,  and  you  know  it. 

DISRAELI  [Laughing]  Lay  not  that  flattering  unc- 
tion to  your  soul!  You  know  I  married  you  for  your 
money.  [Everybody  is  deeply  shocked] 


DISRAELI 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  All  very  well;  but  if  't  wai 
to  do  over  again,  now  you'd  marry  me  for  love. 

DISRAELI.  Perish  the  thought!  For  all  who  marry 
for  love  either  beat  their  wives,  or  run  away  from 
them. 

CHARLES  [Indignantly]     I  trust  you  are  jesting,  sir! 

DISRAELI  [Lifting  his  eyeglass  and  looking  at  him 
a  moment]  Sir,  I  trust  I  am.  But  I  can  never  be 
sure.  [Breaking  off]  Still  no  Probert? 

DUCHESS.     Sir  Michael  is  extremely  busy. 

DISRAELI  [Crossing  toward  the  bell-pull]  Tsh!  — 
Lazy  man! 

CHARLES.     Lazy  —  ? 

DISRAELI.  Why,  of  course.  The  man  who  does 
things,  should  never  be  seen  doing  'em. 

CHARLES.     That  is  a  pose. 

DISRAELI.  Not  at  all.  It's  a  pose  when  he  lets 
himself  be  seen.  [To  everybody's  amazement  he  rings 
without  asking  leave.  Then  he  remembers]  Oh  — 
Duchess,  may  I  ring? 

DUCHESS  [Sharply]  You  have.  Surely,  you  have 
breakfasted? 

DISRAELI.  Ages  ago!  [To  the  SERVANT  who  enters 
and  comes  to  the  DUCHESS]  Ah  —  would  you  very  kindly 
tell  Sir  Michael  Probert  I  wish  to  speak  to  him? 
[He  carelessly  drops  his  hat  and  cloak  on  the  SER- 
VANT'S arm] 

[The  SERVANT  is  taken  aback  and  glances  at  the 
DUCHESS.    She  nods.    SERVANT  exit] 

DUKE  [to  break  the  awkward  'pause  —  to  the  young 
people]  Er  —  had  a  pleasant  game? 

CLARISSA  [To  LADY  BEACONSFIELD,  laughing]  Poor 
Perkyns  nearly  fainted. 

26 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [To  Clarissa]    Why? 

DUCHESS  [Stiffly]  One  does  not  realise  that  the 
Governor  of  the  Bank  of  England  can  be  —  ah  — 
rung  for. 

DISRAELI  [Simply]     Why  not? 

DUKE  [Interposing  hastily]  My  dear  Belinda,  Mr. 
Disraeli  orders  us  all  about.  We  tremble  at  his  nod. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  What  do  you  want  Sir 
Michael  for? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  The  Prime  Minister  and  the  Gov- 
ernor of  the  Bank!  What  wonderful  things  we  shall 
witness! 

DISRAELI.  I  fear  not,  dear  lady !  [To  the  DUCHESS] 
I  am  going  to  carry  my  impertinence  so  far  as  to  ask 
you  to  allow  me  to  see  Probert  in  private. 

DUCHESS.     Will  you  take  him  to  the  library? 

DISRAELI.  The  library  is  too  solemn.  It  suggests 
a  —  conference.  [Carelessly]  No  —  this  dainty  room, 
with  its  flowers,  its  sunshine,  will  answer  my  purpose 
quite  well.  [General  horrified  amazement] 

DUCHESS  [Rising  indignant]     But  —  ! 

DUKE  [Hastily]  Of  course,  of  course.  We'll  clear 
out.  [Offering  MRS.  TRAVERS  his  arm]  Mrs.  Travers, 
I  '11  show  you  my  guns.  Belinda,  take  Lady  Beacons- 
field  to  the  orangery. 

[Exit  with  MRS.  TRAVERS.     The  CUDWORTHS  and 
BROOKES  go  off  into  the  garden] 

DUCHESS  [Moving  to  go,  turns  to  CLARISSA]  You  will 
entertain  Deeford,  Clarissa. 

CHARLES  [To  CLARISSA]  I  shall  be  enchanted. 
Lady  Clarissa,  I  should  like  to  tell  you  about  my  — 
ah  —  reforms  on  the  estate.  I  am  convinced  that  a 
happy  peasantry  — 

27 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Attentive,  coming  over  to  CHARLES]  What 
reforms,  young  gentleman? 

CHABLES  [Haughtily]  Oh!  I  fear  you  would  con- 
sider them  beneath  notice.  I  am  reclaiming  marshy 
districts  —  introducing  a  new  system  of  drainage  — 
building  model  dwellings  —  model  dairies  —  mere  ques- 
tions of  sanitation. 

DISRAELI  [Looks  at  CHARLES  with  surprise]  Why 
—  I  had  no  idea  —  !  That  is  splendid!  That  is  true 
statesmanship  —  Health  before  everything!  Sanitas 
aanitatum:  omnia  sanitas! 

CHARLES  [Bridling]  I  knew  you  would  laugh  a\ 
me.  [To  CLARISSA]  Will  you  come? 

CLARISSA  [Coldly]  Very  sorry.  I  'm  going  to  write 
up  my  diary.  [She  turns  to  go] 

CHARLES  [Following  her]     Your  diary  —  ? 

CLARISSA.  Yes.  [Indicating  DISRAELI]  During  our 
walk  he  said  things  I  want  to  remember. 

[CHARLES  makes  an  angry  gesture  and  exit  through 
right,  shutting  it  after  him] 

THE  BUTLER  [Flings  the  door  open  and  announces] 
Sir  Michael  Probert. 

[Enter  SIR  MICHAEL  PROBERT,  CLARISSA  curtsies 
to  him] 

PHOBERT  [To  everybody]    Good  morning! 

[CLARISSA  exit] 

PROBERT  [To  DISRAELI]  Mr.  Disraeli,  I  am  very 
busy  this  morning. 

DISRAELI.  Then  how  grateful  you  must  be  for  this 
interruption! 

98 


DISRAELI 

DUCHESS  [Going  into  the  garden]    I  hope  you  will  not 
be  long. 
DISRAELI.     Ah  —  that  depends  on  Probert. 

[The  DUCHESS  and  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  go  out] 

PROBERT.     Now,  Mr.  Disraeli  — 

DISRAELI.  One  moment.  [He  crosses  to  the  door, 
which  he  closes,  then  he  closes  the  casement  of  the  centre 
window  and  then  the  French  window  on  the  left] 

PROBERT  [Watching  him  in  wonderment]  Good 
Heavens!  Isn't  it  warm  enough? 

DISRAELI.     Extraordinary  how  voices  travel. 

PROBERT.    Eh? 

DISRAELI.  And  how  pretty  ears  come  halfway  to 
meet  them. 

PROBERT.     Do  you  suggest  —  ? 

DISRAELI.    Nothing.     Sit  down,  Probert.     Sit  down! 

PROBERT  [Sitting  unwillingly]     I  am  unusually  busy! 

DISRAELI.  I  am  usually  busy.  Now  tell  me. 
You  arrived  last  night  after  we  had  all  gone  to  bed, 
but  you  found  a  note  from  me  awaiting  you. 

PHOBERT.  Ha!  ha!  That  was  not  meant  to  be 
taken  in  earnest. 

DISRAELI.     Pardon  me,  in  dead  earnest. 

PROBERT.  Do  you  seriously  mean  you  are  think- 
ing of  purchasing  the  Suez  Canal? 

DISRAELI.  I  have  seldom  meant  anything  half  so 
seriously. 

PROBERT.     But  it's  not  for  sale. 

DISRAELI.     It  is  for  sale.     Ismail  is  dying  to  sell. 

PROBERT.     How  do  you  know? 

DISRAELI.     How  does  n't  matter. 

PROBERT.  And  you  ask  the  Bank  of  England  tn 
back  you? 

29 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.    Temporarily.    Until  Parliament  meets. 

PROBERT.  On  this  vague  knowledge  which  you 
will  not  even  explain. 

DISRAELI.  I  will  explain  when  the  time  comes.  All 
I  want  now,  is  your  assent  on  principle. 

PROBEBT.  Then  let  me  tell  you  at  once,  sir,  you 
shall  never  have  that  assent.  Never,  sir!  [About  to 
rise] 

DISRAELI  [Stopping  him]    Wait  a  moment! 

PtDBEBT  [Sitting  again]  No,  sir.  There  is  nothing 
to  wait  for.  I  am  a  serious  man.  I  shall  not  allow 
the  Bank  to  play  at  ducks  and  drakes  with  the  money 
entrusted  to  its  keeping.  Ducks  and  drakes,  sir,  on 
an  Egyptian  ditch. 

DISRAELI.  Egyptian  ditch?  That's  rather  neat. 
Only  it's  not  ducks  and  drakes,  because  the  Govern- 
ment will  be  at  your  back. 

PBOBERT.    How  do  I  know  that? 

DISRAELI  [With  a  flash]    I  say  so. 

PROBEBT.    Suppose  the  government  fall? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  on  him]  My  dear  man,  it's 
always  falling.  What  difference  does  that  make? 
Don't  the  Conservatives  invariably  go  on  just  where 
the  Radicals  left  off,  and  vice  versa?  Besides,  in  this 
case,  it  has  n't  time  to  fall.  This  thing  must  be  done 
within  the  next  three  weeks:  long  before  Parliament 
meets  — 

[Mas.  TRAVERS  appears  outside  on  the  lawn,  close 
to  the  casement] 

PROBERT.    Why  in  such  a  hurry? 
DISRAELI.    Because  Russia  — 
PROBERT  [Interrupting  him  with  a  snort]    Oh!  that 
ancient  bugbear  I 

80 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  That  ever-present  peril!  —  knows  of  this 
opportunity  to  purchase  the  highroad  to  India. 

PBOBEBT.    Then  why  has  n't  she  purchased  it? 

DISRAELI.  She's  not  ready  —  she  has  no  fleet;  but 
*—  she  is  watching  us.  She  is  watching  me  — 

[MRS.    TBAVERS   opens   the   centre   casement   and 
listens] 

PROBERT.    Ha!    The  spy  Mania  — ! 

DISRAELI.  And  if  she  sees  the  slightest  move  on 
my  part,  she  will  snap  up  the  canal,  fleet  or  no 
fleet! 

PROBERT  [Turning  to  him]  But  my  dear  sir  —  [He 
sees  MRS.  TRAVERS.  She  is  innocently  plucking  a 
flower  from  a  bush  outside  window]  By  Jove,  what  a 
pretty  woman!  [She  holds  the  flower  in  her  hand, 
looks  in  at  them,  nods  pleasantly,  and  passes  on} 

DISRAELI  [Turns  as  PROBERT  speaks.  Waits  until 
she  begins  to  move  on,  then  turns  to  PROBERT]  Yes. 
[Watches  her  going,  then  turns  to  PROBERT  again]  Such 
pretty  ears!  [Goes  up  and  closes  the  casement,  stands 
there,  thinking  a  moment:  then  dismisses  the  incident 
and  comes  down  to  PHOBERT,  who  has  resumed  his  seat] 
Well,  sir,  after  that  delightful  interlude  — 

PROBERT.  No,  sir,  in  my  opinion  your  scheme  is 
hare-brained.  Moreover  it  is  [With  great  emphasis] 
unconstitutional;  and  the  Bank  will  be  no  party  to 
your  high-handed  methods. 

DISRAELI  [Impatiently]  I  tell  you  there  is  no 
time  — 

PROBERT  [Waving  him  aside]    You  exaggerate  the 
importance    of    the    thing.     You    have    the    Eastern 
imagination.     Because    this    canal    runs    through    a 
desert,  you  see  it  in  a  dream  —  in  a  mirage  — ! 
31 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Sitting]  Neat  again.  [With  a  whimsical 
glance  at  him]  Ah,  we  poets! 

PROBEBT.     The  canal  is  a  confessed  failure. 

DISRAELI.    Oh? 

PROBERT.  Whatever  does  n't  pay 's  a  failure.  The 
tonnage  that,  passed  through  it  last  year  — 

DISRAELI  [Interrupting  him  impatiently]  Oh, 
please,  please! 

PROBERT.  And  it's  silting  up,  sir;  silting  up! 
Soon  the  only  ship  sailing  on  it  will  be  the  ship  of  the 
desert.  I  mean  the  camel,  sir! 

DISRAELI  [Innocently]  I  thought  you  meant  the 
camel. 

PROBERT.  Beware  of  the  East.  Don't  touch  it  or 
you  will  go  under.  Remember  Pharaoh,  sir!  Re- 
member Pharaoh! 

DISRAELI.    Yes;  but  what  about  Moses? 

PROBERT.  He  was  a  Jew  —  hum  —  he  was  privi- 
leged. 

DISRAELI.    In  short  —  ? 

PROBERT.  In  short  —  [Rising]  I  disapprove  of 
your  imperialistic  ideas,  Mr.  Disraeli,  and  the  Bank 
shall  not  stir  a  finger  to  further  them.  [DISRAELI 
moves  away,  mastering  his  anger,  and  opens  the  windows] 
Why  are  you  —  ? 

DISRAELI.     I  feared  you  were  getting  too  warm. 

PROBERT.  Ha!  —  I  rejoice  to  think  I  have  made 
this  rash  enterprise  impossible. 

DISRAELI  [Looking  out  at  window  left]  Oh,  but  you 
have  n't. 

PROBERT.  What!  Where  will  you  go  for  the 
money? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  to  him  and  coming  down  slowly( 
Where  Pharaoh  went.  Where  all  Christians  go.  I 


DISRAELI 

shall  go  to  Moses.  [PBOBEBT  is  nonplussed  for  the 
moment,  but  recovers  and  crosses  determinedly  to  the 
doors] 

PROBERT.  At  any  rate,  understand.  It  will  be  no 
use  coming  to  me.  Under  no  circumstances  whatso- 
ever will  the  National  Institution  of  which  I  am  the 
head,  be  a  party  to  your  unconstitutional  methods. 
[At  the  door,  turning  to  DISRAELI]  This,  sir,  is  definite 
and  final. 

DISRAELI.  Nothing  is  final,  Sir  Michael.  In  the 
unlikely  event  of  Moses  failing  me,  I  may  send  for  you 
again. 

PROBERT  [Defiantly]    And  I  shall  not  come,  sir! 

[Exit] 

[LADY  BEACONSFIELD  has  entered  through  the  window] 

DISRAELI  [Looking  after  PROBERT]  I  think  you 
will.  I  think  you  will.  [He  closes  the  door  and  stands 
thinking  a  moment] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Anxiously]  Have  you  quar- 
relled with  him? 

DISRAELI.  No  —  no,  my  dear,  but  he's  missed  his 
opportunity.  [He  crosses  quickly  to  writing  desk,  pulls 
the  bell  and  sits  to  write  a  telegram]  Mary,  I  want  you 
to  come  to  my  room  and  write  some  letters  for  me. 
I  must  get  hold  of  Hugh  Meyers. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [With  a  touch  of  anxiety] 
Hugh  Meyers,  the  banker? 

DISRAELI.  Hugh  Meyers,  the  banker.  That's  the 
m*n,  Mary,  that's  the  man. 

[BUTLER  enters] 
Would  you  very  kindly  send  that  telegram? 

[Gives  it  to  BUTLER,  who  exit  R.] 
33 


DISRAELI 

[DISRAELI  picks  up  MRS.  TBAVERS'  fan,  looks  at 
it  and  thinks,  puts  it  down,  rises  and  comes 
slowly  to  the  centre.  LADY  BEACONSFIELD 
watches  him;  anxiously  calls  to  him:  —  "Dizzy." 
—  He  stops  and  beckons  to  her  to  come  to  him] 

DISRAELI.  Mary  —  where  have  I  seen  Mrs.  Travers 
before? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Relieved]  Oh,  we've  met  her 
at  dinners  — 

DISRAELI.    No,  no!    I  mean,  long  ago. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.,  Now,  Dizzy!  You're  off  on 
one  of  your  wild-goose  chases. 

DISRAELI.    And  now  she  haunts  me. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  She  worships  you  —  as  all 
pretty  women  do. 

DISRAELI  [Musing]  Blue  and  white  —  blue  and 
white  — 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    What  are  you  talking  about? 

DISRAELI.    I  connect  her  something  blue  and  white. 

[MRS.  TRAVERS  and  CLARISSA  are  seen  crossing  on 
the  lawn.  MRS.  TRAVERS  laughs] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Dizzy! 
DISRAELI.    Here    she    is    again!  —  with    Clarissa. 
Run  along,  my  dear,  run  along. 

[LADY  BEACONSFIELD  exit] 

[He  follows  her.  Just  as  he  is  at  the  door,  he  hears 
MRS.  TRAVERS  laughing  again.  He  looks  towards 
her]  Where  the  devil  was  it? 

[Exit  —  closing  the  door] 

[Enter  MRS.  TRAVERS  and  CLARISSA  from  th» 
garden] 

34 


DISRAELI 

CLARISSA  [Looking    after    DISRAELI]    There, 
We've  driven  him  away!    What  a  pity! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    What  a  hero- worshipper  you  are! 

CLARISSA.  But  what  a  hero  to  worship!  When  I 
am  talking  with  him,  I  am  talking  with  one  of  the 
makers  of  history. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Insidiously]  I  suppose  he  unbur- 
dens himself  to  you  quite  freely? 

CLARISSA.  It  never  seems  as  though  it  were  im- 
portant; but,  suddenly,  I  find  he  is  telling  me  great 
and  wonderful  things.  He  thinks  in  empires. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  This  friendship  between  the  young 
girl  and  the  statesman  is  strangely  beautiful.  How 
precious  your  sympathy  must  be  to  him. 

CLARISSA.  I  realise  what  he  has  done  for  his  country; 
what  difficulties  he  has  overcome  by  his  genius;  and 
everybody  else  seems  so  trivial  —  so  unnecessary. 
Don't  you  feel  that?  [She  sits  on  the  ottoman] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  I  think  I  understand.  What 
would  I  give  to  make  a  third  in  your  conversations! 
[Sits  beside  her] 

CLARISSA.    Why  don't  you? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Poor  little  me!  I  have  n't  brains 
enough.  No.  You  must  sometimes  tell  me  in  a 
simple  way  what  he  has  been  saying.  [Innocently] 
For  instance,  why  did  he  summon  Sir  Michael  just 
now? 

CLARISSA.  Oh!  He  does  n't  talk  about  little 
things  like  that!  He  discusses  the  condition  of  the 
people,  the  policy  of  nations. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    And  his  own  ambitions? 

CLARISSA.  Never.  His  ambition  is  limited  to 
making  his  country  great. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    But  tell  me  —  why  — 
35 


DISRAELI 

[Enter  CHARLES,  from  the  garden] 

CHARLES.  So  your  Mr.  Disraeli  has  kindly  allowed 
you  to  come  back? 

CLARISSA  [Rising]  Come,  Agatha!  Mamma  will 
be  wanting  me. 

CHARLES.  The  Duchess  sent  me  to  ask  Mrs. 
Travers  to  join  her. 

CLARISSA  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS]    Agatha,  come! 

CHARLES  [To  CLARISSA]  As  a  reward,  she  held  out 
the  hope  that  you  would  cheer  my  loneliness. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [To  CLARISSA,  hastily]  Yes,  dear; 
that  is  only  fair. 

[Exit,  turning  at  the  window  to  smile  at  CHARLES] 

CHARLES  [With  a  sigh  of  satisfaction]  Ah — !  Now, 
Lady  Clarissa,  pray  be  seated. 

CLARISSA  [Coming  over  to  him;  abruptly]  Why  do 
you  dislike  Mr.  Disraeli  so  much? 

CHARLES  [Taken  aback]  I  neither  like  him,  nor 
dislike  him.  He  is  nothing  to  me. 

CLARISSA.    Oh?  —  Don't  you  feel  lonely? 

CHARLES  [Astonished]    Lonely  —  ? 

CLARISSA.  You  are  the  only  man  in  all  the  world, 
who  neither  likes  nor  dislikes  Mr.  Disraeli. 

CHARLES  [Dismissing  the  subject.  Patronizingly]  Yes, 
yes.  I  know  how  you  admire  him.  But  we  won't 
argue  about  that  now.  I  have  had  the  honour  of  a 
conversation  with  your  mother. 

CLARISSA  [With  a  quick  look  at  him]    Yes? 

CHARLES.  And  she  has  given  me  her  gracious  per- 
mission to  address  you. 

CLARISSA  [Demurely]    Was  her  permission  needed? 
M 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES.  For  my  present  purpose,  yes.  I  am 
rather  a  stickler  for  form,  you  know. 

CLARISSA.  [Simply]     I  know. 

CHARLES.  The  fact  is,  as  I  told  your  mother,  I 
consider  it  my  duty  to  marry  — 

CLARISSA.    Yes  —  ? 

CHARLES.  It  is  perhaps  a  little  early.  But  I  have 
views,  and  I  wish  to  have  time  to  inculcate  them  in 
my  wife  before  she  has  to  assume  her  full  responsibil- 
ities and  —  ah  —  privileges  —  as  Duchess  of  Dunelm. 

CLARISSA  [Sitting  on  the  ottoman]     Yes? 

CHARLES.  I  am  much  interested  in  the  working- 
man.  I  have  plans  for  building  model  cottages,  with 
improved  —  ah  —  sanitary  appliances.  I  shall  spend 
a  good  deal  of  time  among  my  people.  I  shall  expect 
my  wife  to  help  me.  We  must  raise  the  tone  of  the 
agricultural  labourer.  You  will  hardly  believe  that 
many  of  them  have  never  heard  of  Ruskin.  All  that 
must  be  altered.  I  trust  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of 
Dunelm  will  show  their  humble  friends  a  model  Eng- 
lish household,  model  children  —  in  short,  a  model  — 

CLARISSA.  One  moment.  What  have  all  these 
models  to  do  with  me? 

CHARLES  [Somewhat  surprised]  Have  I  not  made 
myself  clear?  Since  I  first  had  the  privilege  of  meet- 
ing you,  I  have  watched  you  closely,  and,  —  ah  — 
Clarissa  —  [Sitting  beside  her]  may  I  call  you  Clar- 
issa? —  [She  bows  assent]  I  have  decided  that  in 
time,  you  will  become  admirably  suited  to  occupy  the 
position  I  have  —  er  —  adumbrated. 

CLARISSA  [Quickly]     I  beg  your  pardon? 

CHARLES  [Explaining  graciously]  Adumbrated  — 
outlined. 

CLARISSA  [Demurely]  Thank  you.  You  will  think 
37 


DISRAELI 

me  very  silly,  Charles  —  may  I  call  you  Charles? 
[He  gravely  bows  assent]  —  Thank  you.  But  I  am  not 
quite  sure  I  understand  you,  even  yet.  Is  this  —  is 
this  really  an  offer  of  marriage? 

CHARLES.  I  hoped  I  had  made  that  clear  without 
offensive  plainness  of  speech. 

CLARISSA  [Staring  at  him]     How  wonderful! 

CHARLES  [Kindly]  Oh!  You  have  the  right  to 
expect  a  high  matrimonial  alliance. 

CLARISSA  [After  a  humorous  glance  at  him]  But 
I  mean  the  manner  of  your  proposal. 

CHARLES.    Surely  — 

CLARISSA.  You  are  a  young  man  of  twenty-five, 
and  I  am  a  girl  of  nineteen  —  and  you  come  with  an 
essay  on  political  economy  —  ! 

CHARLES.  I  am  a  man  with  heavy  responsibilities; 
not  a  hero  of  romance.  You  will  enter  a  family,  not 
one  of  the  women  of  which  has  ever  been  talked  about, 
and  of  which  the  men  have  never  done  anything  to 
be  ashamed  of. 

CLARISSA.    Have  they  ever  done  anything? 

CHARLES.  Nothing,  thank  God,  to  attract  atten- 
tion. [Rising]  Well!  I  think  the  next  thing,  is  to 
announce  our  betrothal  — 

CLARISSA  [Also  rising]  Not  quite  the  next  thing. 
I  am  very  much  honoured,  Lord  Deeford,  but  I 
must  decline  the  responsibilities  —  and  the  privileges. 

CHARLES  [Taken  aback]    I  beg  your  pardon  — 

CLARISSA  [With  a  great  outburst]  O,  Charles,  Charles! 
You've  made  a  horrible  hash  of  the  whole  thing! 
[CHARLES  is  horrified]  Yes!  for  pity's  sake,  let  me 
talk  slang,  or  I  shall  have  hysterics!  I  did  like 
you;  I  liked  you  very  much.  You  are  entirely  and 
spotlessly  correct.  But  I  am  not.  [Defiantly]  I 
38 


DISRAELI 

don't  like  King  Arthur.  Galahad  bores  me  to  tears. 
Charles!  Ruskin  bores  me  to  death!  —  I  should  die 
at  Dunelm  Castle.  Your  women,  who  have  never 
been  talked  about,  and  your  men,  who  have  never 
done  anything,  would  make  me  scream.  Your  model 
cottages  leave  me  cold,  because  I  know  the  labourer 
wants  bread,  not  bricks;  and  oh!  those  model  chil- 
dren!—  I  want  flesh  and  blood  children,  who  tear 
their  pinafores  and  smear  their  faces  with  jam! 

CHARLES.  But  —  Lady  Clarissa  — ! 
1  CLARISSA.  If  ever  I  marry  —  and  I  hope  I  shall)  — 
my  husband  will  be  a  man  who  has  got  himself  into 
dreadful  tangles,  so  that  I  may  sympathise  with  him 
and  get  him  out  of  them.  And  he  must  be  doing 
things  all  the  time!  —  I  am  sorry  for  you,  Charles. 
It  is  dreadful  to  begin  life,  handicapped  with  a  title 
and  a  ready-made  position.  But  I  want  a  husband 
who  is  at  the  bottom,  and  is  climbing!  —  climbing  on 
hands  and  knees,  —  bleeding  hands  and  bleeding 
knees,  —  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  summit.  Never 
mind  if  he  never  gets  there;  I  can  help  him  to  climb, 
and,  if  he  falls,  I  can  fall  with  him. 

CHARLES.    But  I  —  ! 

CLARISSA.  No!  —  You  were  born  at  the  top.  You 
sit  in  a  rarified  atmosphere  like  the  gods  on  Olympus 
and  design  model  cottages  —  [She  suddenly  gives  a  cry 
of  joy,  as  she  sees  DISRAELI  entering]  Ah!  — 

CHARLES  [With  an  angry  look  at  DISRAELI  who  re- 
mains standing  at  the  open  door]  I  see  I  have  made 
a  mistake. 

[Exit  into  the  garden] 

DISRAELI  [Closes  the  door  and  comes  to  CLARISSA] 
So  you  have  refused  him? 

CLARISSA  [Surprised]    Oh!    How  did  you  know? 
39 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  That  back  was  eloquent  of  refusal.  You 
have  no  sympathy  with  ready-made  greatness.  [Play- 
fully] Ah  —  you  are  a  little  Radical. 

CLARISSA.     Perhaps. 

DISRAELI.    At  heart  everybody  is.    I  am. 

CLARISSA  [With  amused  protest]    You! 

DISRAELI.  Certainly.  We  want  to  bring  every- 
body to  a  uniform  level;  so  as  to  begin  all  over  again 
and  —  rise  above  everybody. 

CLARISSA  [With  a  smile.  Sitting  on  the  ottoman] 
Is  that  Radicalism? 

DISRAELI.  It  works  out  that  way.  You  refuse 
Deeford  because  he  is  a  mere  descendant;  not  an 
ancestor. 

CLABISSA.    Well?    Am  I  not  right? 

DISRAELI.  He  may  become  an  ancestor,  you  know. 
[She  laughs.  He  sits  beside  her]  Are  you  fond  of  him? 
[Takes  her  hand] 

CLARISSA  [Turning  to  him',  thoughtfully  and  sin- 
cerely] I  like  him  very  much.  When  he  forgets 
Oxford,  he  can  be  quite  charming.  If  he  had  simply 
said,  "Clarissa,  will  you  marry  me?"  I  might  have 
answered,  just  as  simply,  "Yes."  But  he  lectured 
me  on  model  cottages  and  the  model  family  —  ! 

DISRAELI.    I  have  a  very  high  opinion  of  him. 

CLABISSA  [Amazed]  Why,  one  of  my  grievances 
against  him  is  that  he  does  not  appreciate  you! 

DISRAELI.  He  is  a  little  less  than  courteous  to  me, 
because  he  may  go  through  any  door  hi  front  of  me 
by  right  of  birth.  That  is  so  ridiculous  that  it  becomes 
sublime. 

CLABISSA.    It  is  disgusting. 

DISRAELI.  No.  It  is  a  foundation  on  which  to 
build  empires.  That  conscious  superiority  is  UM» 
40 


DISRAELI 

quality  which  enables  one  Anglo-Saxon  to  go  out 
among  thirty  thousand  savages  and  make  them  fear 
him,  and  hate  him  —  and  —  adore  him. 

CLARISSA.    But  he  has  no  initiative! 

DISRAELI.  Who  knows?  [Rising]  When  he  boasted 
just  now  about  his  reforms,  his  model  cottages, 
he  gave  me  a  new  insight  into  his  character;  showed 
me  there  was  something  in  him. 

CLARISSA.    Then  why  does  n't  he  let  it  come  out? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  to  her  urith  a  smile]  If  the 
opportunity  occurred,  he  might  rise  to  it. 

CLARISSA  [Rising]  A  man  should  make  his  own 
opportunities.  And  it's  no  use  talking.  I  refused 
him;  and  I  told  him  why. 

DISRAELI.    Did  you? 

CLARISSA.    Quite  frankly. 

DISRAELI.    Did  you. 

CLARISSA  [Almost  impatiently]  I  told  him  I  must 
have  a  man  of  action,  of  initiative,  a  man  who  tried. 
[With  a  burst  of  enthusiasm]  Oh,  Mr.  Disraeli,  one 
does  not  live  hi  your  company,  see  you,  and  listen  to 
you,  without  learning  — 

DISRAEU  [Interrupting  her  gently]  My  dear  child, 
I  hope  you  will  learn!  I  hope  you  will.  And  you 
must  begin  by  giving  Deeford  — 

CLARISSA  [Stopping  her  ears]  Don't!  As  he  is 
now,  I  would  sooner  marry  a  bricklayer.  He  does 
lay  bricks;  and  he  may  build  a  cathedral. 

[DISRAELI  sits  on  the  ottoman  laughing  but  thought- 
ful.   Enter  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [As  she  enters  and  closes  door] 
Now,  Clarissa,  you've  had  more  than  your  share  of 
my  Dixy — 

41 


DISRAELI 

CiiARissA  [Going  up  to  the  window]  He  has  been  giv- 
ing me  good  advice  —  [With  a  pretty  pout  at  DISRAELI] 
which  I  am  not  going  to  follow! 

[Exit  into  garden] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Going  towards  the  window, 
turns]  Are  you  coming  out? 

DISRAELI  [Sitting  on  the  ottoman,  thoughtfully]  Dee- 
ford  has  asked  Clarissa  to  marry  him. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Without  enthusiasm]  I  sup- 
pose that's  a  good  match. 

DISRAELI.     And  she  has  refused  him. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Coming  down,  interestedly]  Oh? 

DISRAELI  [Suddenly  rising]  Mary  —  I  am  going  to 
play  fairy  godfather  and  bring  them  together. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Laughing]  You!  A  match- 
maker! As  if  you  had  n't  enough  to  do! 

DISRAELI.  Ah!  Who  knows  but  this  may  be  the 
greatest  thing  I  have  done.  I  have  been  searching 
for  a  young  man.  With  such  a  prize  as  Clarissa, 
Deeford  may  become  just  what  I  need.  Think  what 
a  splendid  couple  they'd  make. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Beside  him]  Ah,  Dizzy  — 
always  dreaming  a  romance! 

DISRAELI  [Turning  to  her  tenderly]  And  living  one, 
my  dear,  while  you  are  at  my  side.  [They  go  up 
stage  arm  in  arm] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Looking  off]  The  terrible 
Duchess,  and  Deeford  —  and  she 's  looking  black. 

DISRAELI  [With  his  back  to  the  window]  Then  he's 
told  her  of  his  rejection.  Does  she  appear  to  be  talk- 
ing much? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Volumes! 

DISRAELI  [With  mock  fear.  Into  her  ear]  Mary  — 
we'll  go  for  a  walk!  [Exeunt  into  garden] 

42 


DISRAELI 

[Enter  DUCHESS  and  CHARLES  from  garden] 

DUCHESS  [Very  indignant]  I  am  surprised  and 
shocked.  I  shall  talk  to  Clarissa. 

CHARLES.     I  fear  that  will  have  no  effect. 

DUCHESS.  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  talking 
without  effect!  —  To  what  do  you  attribute  her 
refusal? 

CHARLES.     May  I  speak  my  mind  freely? 

DUCHESS.     Of  course. 

CHARLES.  Then  let  me  say  with  all  respect,  I  fear 
she  has  had  her  head  turned. 

DUCHESS.     What  do  you  mean?     By  whom? 

CHARLES.     By  Mr.  Disraeli. 

DUCHESS  [Shocked  and  indignant]     Charles! 

CHARLES.  Pray  don't  misunderstand  me!  Clarissa 
is  very  young.  She  has  made  a  hero  of  this  —  Jew. 
He  talks  to  her  in  his  persuasive  and  magnetic  way, 
and,  what  is  far  more  dangerous,  he  encourages  her 
to  talk  to  him;  fosters  her  foolish  —  hum!  —  her 
high-flown  ideals  and  enthusiasm.  The  consequence 
is  that  I  seem  uninteresting  —  uninspiring  —  in  a 
word,  unromantic! 

DUCHESS.  I  warned  Glastonbury  something  dread- 
ful would  happen  if  we  had  that  person  here.  What 
am  I  to  do?  The  Duke  shakes  in  his  shoes  at  the 
sight  of  him.  [She  looks  out  through  the  window  and  sees 
DISRAELI,  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  and  CLARISSA  crossing 
the  lawn]  Here  he  comes  —  I  dare  not  trust  myself 
to  speak  to  him.  I  '11  talk  to  Clarissa. 

CHARLES.     And  I  '11  talk  to  Mr.  Disraeli! 

DUCHESS.    Be  careful! 

CHARLES.  Oh,  I'm  not  afraid  of  him!  [He  turns 
over  the  leaves  sf  «  ioo/i] 

43 


DISRAELI 

[Enter  DISRAELI  through  the  window.  He  bows  to 
the  DUCHESS,  who  goes  out  through  the  opposite 
window  haughtily.  He  smiles  and  comes  down] 

DISRAELI.    Ah,  Deeford?    Courting  the  Muse? 

CHARLES  [Offensively]  No.  I  neither  read  novels 
nor  write  them. 

DISRAELI.  Pity.  Innocent  recreations,  both;  and 
the  latter  lucrative. 

CHARLES.  [Slamming  the  book  and  commencing  a 
speech]  Mr.  Disraeli  — 

DISRAELI  [Deprecatingly]  There,  now !  I  know  that 
tone  of  voice  so  well  — 

CHARLES  [Coming  towards  him  angrily]  What  do 
you  mean,  sir? 

DISRAELI.  It 's  the  tone  of  an  angry  man.  Now, 
what  can  have  put  you  out?  [At  a  movement  from 
CHARLES]  No.  Don't  speak.  Interruptions  are  an- 
noying. If  they  had  n't  interrupted  me  the  first  time 
I  addressed  the  house,  I  might  have  become  a  vestry- 
man and  respectable. 

CHARLES.  Really,  Mr.  Disraeli,  you  make  it  diffi- 
cult to  talk  to  you  seriously. 

DISRAELI.  Oh!  Never  talk  seriously.  Keep  your 
grave  face  for  your  jokes. 

CHARLES  [Turning  away,  disgustedly]  I  never  make 
jokes. 

DISRAELI.  The  man  who  never  makes  jokes  is  a 
standing  joke  to  the  world. 

CHARLES.  Mr.  Disraeli!  Clarissa  —  has  refused 
me. 

DISRAELI  [Gravely]    Yes? 

CHARLES  [Coming  over  to  him]    And  I,  sir,  —  I  at- 
tribute her  refusal  to  your  influence. 
44 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Looking  at  him  keenly]  I  see  I  wo? 
thoroughly  justified  in  thinking  well  of  you. 

CHARLES  [Astonished]     What  do  you  mean? 

DISRAELI.  You  have  courage,  or  you  could  never 
say  that  to  me. 

CHARLES  [Haughtily]  Pray,  why  should  I  not  say 
it? 

DISRAELI.  Because  it  is  true.  And  when  a  very 
young  man  speaks  an  unpleasant  truth  to  a  very  old 
one  —  he  shows  absolutely  reckless  courage. 

CHARLES.     There  was  no  other  way. 

DISRAELI  [Impatiently,  turning  away]  A  hundred. 
Do  you  take  a  girl's  No  as  final? 

CHARLES.     I  suppose  she  knows  her  own  mind  — 

DISRAELI.     Certainly.     But  make  her  change  it. 

CHARLES.     How? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  to  him  and  smiling]  I  am  glad 
you  are  asking  me  to  help  you  —  because  I  am  inter- 
ested in  you. 

CHARLES.     Interested  in  me? 

DISRAELI.     Deeply. 

CHARLES.     Why? 

DISRAELI.  Because  England  stands  in  terrible 
need  of  men  of  your  stamp. 

CHARLES  [Contemptuously]  I  cannot  see  that.  Eng- 
land is  doing  very  well.  [With  a  fine  oratorical  manner] 
She  was  never  so  prosperous  as  now.  She  has  a  wise 
aristocracy,  an  industrious  middleclass,  and  a  con- 
tented and  happy  peasantry.  Other  nations  envy  her. 

DISRAELI.  Splendid!  Splendid!  How  many  old 
Tory  squires  I've  heard  talk  just  like  that!  And 
that's  how  they've  talked  since  the  beginning  of 
things.  That's  how  they  talked  when  we  lost  America  ; 
when  the  Indian  mutiny  burst  upon  us;  when  our 
45 


DISRAELI 

soldiers  froze  and  starved  in  the  Crimea;  when  we 
deserted  Denmark;  and  when  we  sat  idle  while  France 
and  Germany  flew  at  each  other's  throats.  It's  just 
that  talk  that  has  lost  us  all  our  friendships. 

CHARLES  [Contemptuously]  Ah!  —  Continental 
friendships!  Frog-eaters!  —  beer-swillers! 

DISRAELI  [Very  nearly  angry  —  masters  himself]     Ah 

—  is  that  how  you  talked  to  Clarissa? 
CHARLES.    I  do  not  discuss  politics  with  women. 
DISRAELI.    I  do.    [He  takes  CHARLES   by  the  arm 

and  forces  him  down  beside  him  on  the  ottoman]  See 
man!  See!  England  is  as  isolated  as  a  ship  lying 
off  the  coast.  Her  crew  know  nothing  of  what  they 
call  the  land-lubbers.  They  go  on  shore  now  and 
then  for  a  debauch;  and  as  they  only  hunt  out  the 
vice,  they  come  back  with  a  headache,  and  righteously 
thank  God  they  are  not  as  other  men!  I  tell  you  a 
ferment  is  at  work  all  over  the  world.  Titanic  forces 
are  unchained  in  America;  forces  you  have  no  con- 
ception of.  The  spirit  of  nationality  has  awakened 
in  France,  in  Germany,  in  Italy.  New  wine  has  been 
poured  into  the  old  bottles,  and  an  explosion  must 
follow  sooner  or  later.  I  shall  not  live  to  see  it,  but 
I  hear  the  seething  of  the  yeast!  But  you  —  !  My 
God,  what  things  you  will  witness!  Take  care  you 
are  not  asleep  I  —  All  the  nations  must  expand,  and 
everywhere  our  empire  is  in  their  way  —  Russia,  for 
instance.  Now,  while  England  stands  alone,  while 
France  is  crippled,  and  before  Germany  has  recovered 

—  now  is  Russia's  opportunity  to  snatch  at  India. 
With  India  lost,  the  whole  fabric  crumbles;  and  Eng- 
land   sinks    into    insignificance:  a    Belgium    at    sea! 
[Rising]     Now  do  you  see  why  Clarissa  refused  you? 

—  These  are  the  things  I  have  shown  her.    Do  you 

46 


DISRAELI 

wonder  she  wants  a  man  of  action?    Do  you  wonder 
she  will  not  be  content  with  being  a  mere  Duke's  wife? 

CHARLES  [Deeply  impressed]  I  see  —  [Rising]  But 
what  can  I  do?  What  can  any  one  man  do? 

DISRAELI.     What  one  man  has  already  done! 

CHARLES  [Coming  to  him]  You,  sir?  —  But  how 
can  I  hope  to  emulate  you? 

DISRAELI.     You  can  learn  —  Will  you  learn? 

CHARLES  [Eagerly]    Will  you  teach  me,  sir? 

DISRAELI.    Yes. 

CHARLES.    How  can  I  begin? 

DISRAELI.  Leave  your  small  ideals;  or,  better 
still,  grow  from  small  ideals  to  greater.  You  have 
begun  —  well;  you  are  setting  your  house  in  order,  — 
now  pass  on!  Pass  from  the  Parish  to  the  Empire! 

CHARLES.  The  parish!  How  small  it  seems!  And 
everything  I've  done  in  politics  how  utterly  insig- 
nificant! 

DISRAELI.    In  politics  nothing  is  insignificant. 

CHARLES  [Laughing  bitterly]  Contrast  it  with  this 
question  of  India? 

DISRAELI.     Whether  we  hold  it  or  lose  it? 

CHARLES.    Yes!    Yes!    What  is  the  solution  —  war? 

DISRAELI.  War  is  never  a  solution;  —  war  is  an 
aggravation. 

CHARLES  [Eagerly]    What,  then,  is  the  solution? 

DISRAELI  [Turns  and  looks  at  him  steadily  awhile  as 
if  deciding  whether  he  is  fit  to  be  told,  then  comes  close 
to  him,  and  speaks  almost  in  a  whisper]  A  very  small 
thing;  a  thing  men  are  laughing  at. 

CHARLES.     What,  sir,  what? 

DISRAELI.    A  ditch.     A  ditch  dug  in  sand. 

CHARLES  [Puzzled]    A  ditch  —  ? 

DISRAELI.    A  ditch,  dug  in  shifting  sand. 
47 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES.  You  mean  the — !  [DISRAELI  swiftly  mo- 
tions him,  to  silence,  and  slowly  approaches  the  door  on 
the  left] 

CHARLES  [Watching  him  with  amazement]  Why, 
sir?  Surely,  this  secluded  room  in  a  nobleman's 
house  is,  of  all  places,  the  most  secure  —  [DISRAELI 
opens  the  door.  MRS.  TRAVERS  follows  the  opening 
door  with  her  hand  on  the  handle] 

DISRAELI  [Apologising  profusely]     I  beg  your  pardon! 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Quite  unperturbed]  Thank  you  so 
much.  Dear  Clarissa  left  her  book  — 

DISRAELI.  A  fortunate  circumstance  for  us.  What 
was  the  book? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Sybil.  [She  makes  a  pretence  of 
looking  for  the  book] 

DISRAELI.  I  have  heard  of  it.  Now,  where  can  it 
be?  [He  makes  a  great  show  of  looking  for  it,  but  keeps 
an  eye  on  her]  Do  help  us,  Deef ord.  Remember,  —  a 
ditch  in  sand,  gives  the  best  soil  for  celery.  [To  MRS. 
TRAVERS  while  they  are  all  ostensibly  hunting]  We 
were  in  the  thick  of  a  very  interesting  discussion  — 
some  people  say  loam  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    Really? 

DISRAELI.  And  some  advocate  a  fertilizer  —  [MRS. 
TRAVERS  taking  a  book  from  under  her  wrap,  turns  and 
seeing  DISRAELI'S  back  towards  her,  slips  it  behind  a 
piece  of  furniture.  DISRAELI  sees  her]  But  I  say  sand, 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Still  looking  for  the  book]     Sand? 

[During  the  thick  of  the  hunt,  enter  the  DUKE  followed 
by  LADY  BEACONSFIELD,  LORD  and  LADY  CUD- 
WORTH,  LORD  and  LADY  BROOKE  and  CLARISSA] 

DUKE  [Cheerfully]  What  are  you  all  playing? 
Hide  and  seek? 

48 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Something  like  it,  Duke.  [He  finds  the 
book]  Ah!  There  it  is!  Now  is  n't  that  remarkable? 
[He  stoops  to  pick  it  up] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Now,  Dizzy,  you  know  you 
are  not  to  stoop. 

DISRAELI.  Ah,  but  to  pick  up  things  one  must. 
[To  MRS.  TKAVERS,  handing  her  the  book]  Must  n't 
one?  [She  looks  at  him,  in  a  half -smiling,  puzzled  way] 

DUCHESS  [Entering  unconscious  of  anything  unusual] 
I  have  arranged  we  are  all  to  picnic  in  the  Abbey 
ruins  to-morrow. 

DISRAELI.  Dear  Duchess,  I  am  deeply  grieved,  but 
we  shall  not  be  able  to  avail  ourselves  of  your  exquisite 
hospitality  beyond  to-day  — 

DUCHESS  [Coldly]  Oh  —  ?  I  am  sorry.  But,  of 
course  —  Deeford,  will  you  drive  the  drag? 

DISRAELI.  Deeford  is  coming  witH  us.  [A  general 
movement  of  astonishment.  CHARLES  looks  expectantly 
towards  DISRAELI] 

DUCHESS  [Turning  round  sharply]    What? 

DISRAELI.     I  require  his  assistance 

DUCHESS  [Amazed  and  indignant^  "Require  his 
assistance  —  ! " 

DISRAELI.  Lord  Deeford  has  done  me  the  honour 
of  accepting  a  secretaryship.  [Exclamations] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  How  unexpected!  —  Lord  Dee- 
ford  working!  —  Clarissa!  Is  n't  that  unexpected? 

CLARISSA  [With  a  smile,  looking  at  CHABLES]  Not 
altogether. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  And  how  he'll  have  to  w^rk!  [To 
DISRAELI]  You  will  have  so  many  thing?  to  teach 
him. 

CHARLES  [Looking  at  CLARISSA]  Mr.  Disroct*  has 
already  begun. 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Yes,  I  have  been  teaching  him  what  it 
took  me  many  years  to  learn. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     And  what  is  that? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  slowly  and  looking  at  her]  Dear 
lady,  that  a  ditch  dug  in  sand  gives  the  best  soil  for 
celery. 

CURTAIN 


MR.    GEORGE    ARLJSS    AS    DISRAELI 


ACT  H 

SCENE  —  In  Downing  Street 

DISRAELI'S  private  room  in  Downing  Street.  On  the 
left  a  large  window  opens  on  a  glass-covered  balcony  full 
of  evergreens  and  flowers.  At  the  back,  towards  the  left 
a  door;  another  door  in  the  right  corner  and  a  third  door 
in  front,  on  the  right.  In  the  centre  of  the  room  a  great 
writing  table,  with  a  chair  behind  it.  Two  other  chairs 
R.  and  L.  of  table.  On  the  walls  roller  maps,  engraved 
portraits  of  statesmen.  The  general  aspect  of  the  room 
is  solemn  and  dignified,  not  to  say  heavy.  The  table  is 
littered  with  documents,  blue-books  and  letters.  A  smaller 
table  in  front,  below  the  window  on  the  left.  Chair 
near  it. 

[The  room  is  empty,  as  the  curtain  rises.  Presently 
FOLJAMBE  opens  the  door  in  the  right  corner  cautiously 
and  peers  into  the  room;  he  is  about  to  enter  but  with- 
draws quickly  as  the  lower  door  R.  is  opened  through 
which  enters  MR.  TEARLE,  with  letters;  some  un- 
opened, which  he  places  on  small  table  left;  others 
opened,  which  he  places  on  the  large  table  centre.  MR. 
TEARLE  exit  R.  front.  In  the  meantime  FOLJAMBE  has 
been  seen  watching  him  furtively.  As  soon  as  the  CLERK 
has  gone,  FOLJAMBE  slips  in  with  catlike  swiftness.  He 
stands  at  the  left  corner  of  the  writing  table  facing  and 
watching  the  entrance-door.  With  one  hand  he  shuffles 
the  letters,  and  at  the  same  time  peers  at  them.  His  eye 
falls  on  an  open  letter.  This  he  coaxes  towards  him 


DISRAELI1 

and  tries  to  read  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  Enter 
DISRAELI  suddenly,  followed  by  MR.  TEAHLE.  FOL- 
JAMBE stands  quite  unembarrassed] 

DISRAELI  [Pleasantly]  Good  morning,  Mr.  Fol- 
jambe  —  [To  MR.  TEARLE]  You  did  not  tell  me  Mr. 
Foljambe  was  waiting. 

TEARLE  [At  door]  He  was  not  here,  sir.  [Closes 
door]  Your  personal  letters  are  on  the  table,  sir. 

DISRAELI  [To  him]  Thank  you,  Mr.  Tearle.  [Sits 
in  chair  behind  table] 

[Exit  TEARLE  through  door  up  R.] 

[DISRAELI  looks  at  FOLJAMBE  enquiringly] 

FOLJAMBE.     I  have  come  on  a  personal  matter,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  Yes?  [Glances  over  his  letters  and  makes 
pencil  notes  on  their  backs] 

FOLJAMBE  [In  the  tone  of  a  just  man  urith  a  grievance] 
I  have  had  the  honour  of  being  here  some  time  — 

DISRAELI.    Yes? 

FOLJAMBE.  I  feel  I  can  be  of  little  use  to  you  under 
present  circumstances. 

DISRAELI.    I  don't  understand. 

FOLJAMBE.  If  I  may  say  so,  you  seem  to  be  keep- 
ing me  at  arm's  length. 

DISRAELI  [Protesting]  Oh!  —  Your  presence  at  my 
elbow  is  a  proof  to  the  contrary. 

FOLJAMBE.  I  am  not  in  the  close  touch  with  you 
I  had  hoped  for.  No  important  matters  have  been 
entrusted  to  me.  Even  my  room  is  upstairs  —  a 
long  way  off. 

DISRAELI.  Patience!  Patience!  You  will  remem- 
ber I  told  you  I  must  observe  you  a  little  while.  I  have 
been  doing  so.  The  result  is  just  what  I  expected. 

FOLJAMBE.  I  am  very  grateful,  sir  —  May  I  hope  — ? 
52 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Yes.  Henceforth  I  will  keep  you  busy. 
Matters  of  great  consequence  are  coming  up  to-day  — 

FOI»FAMBE  [Eagerly]     Yes,  sir? 

DISRAELI.  Yes,  Mr.  Foljambe;  I  may  say,  one 
matter  of  National  importance. 

FOLJAMBE  [Insidiously]  Of  —  er  —  Imperial  impor- 
tance, sir? 

DISRAELI.    Yes,  even  of  Imperial  importance. 

FOLJAMBE.    Indeed,  sir! 

DISRAELI.  For  unless  the  heart  be  sound  the  whole 
body  must  suffer. 

FOLJAMBE.    You  allude  sir,  to  — ? 

DISRAELI.     I  allude  to  drainage. 

FOLJAMBE  [Disappointed]  Drainage?  [Then  insin^ 
uatingly]  Ah,  the  drainage  of  waste-places,  the 
drainage  of  the  desert? 

DISRAELI.  No,  no,  Mr.  Foljambe,  the  drainage  of 
London.  A  great  scheme.  Enormous  expense.  I 
am  trying  to  arrange  a  loan.  [Handing  him  a  packet 
of  papers  from  table]  Here  are  the  papers  —  you 
might  look  them  over. 

FOLJAMBE  [Crestfallen,  taking  the  papers]  Is  there 
nothing  else,  sir? 

DISRAELI.  Yes,  yes.  [Picks  up  a  blue  document] 
This  contains  the  report  of  the  Secretary  of  State  for 
India  on  the  coaling  stations  and  fortifications  of  the 
Gulf  of  Aden.  Dry  stuff,  I  fear.  Let  me  see;  where 
is  the  Gulf  of  Aden?  [Rises  and  goes  over  to  the 
maps,  unrolls  a  map  of  Africa.  Turning  to  FOLJAMBE: 
who  has  followed  him]  Where  is  the  Gulf  of  Aden? 
[FOLJAMBE  promptly  points  it  out]  You're  familiar 
with  the  country,  I  see.  [FOLJAMBE  starts  slightly. 
DISRAELI  then  examines  the  map]  Ah  yes!  Very  un- 
healthy climate,  I  believe. 
53 


DISRAELI 

FOLJAMBE  [Deliberately]  The  district  will  grow  in 
importance  with  the  development  of  the  Suez  Canal. 

DISRAELI  [With  contempt]  Oh,  the  Suez  Canal! 
Silting  up,  sir;  silting  up!  [Returns  to  table;  DEE- 
FORD  enters  through  door  down  R.  He  carries  several 
large  official  blue  envelopes,  sealed]  Ah,  Deeford! 

CHARLES.  Dispatches  from  Russia,  sir.  [DIS- 
RAELI takes  them  and  places  them  on  table.  DEEFORD 
passes  on  over  to  his  table  on  the  left,  where  he  sits  and 
commences  working  at  documents] 

FOLJAMBE.  What  do  you  wish  me  to  do  with  those 
papers,  sir? 

DISRAELI.  In  a  moment.  [Picks  up  engagement 
card  and  crosses  to  DEEFORD.  FOLJAMBE  edges  towards 
table,  glancing  at  dispatches]  We  shall  have  a  very 
busy  day  to-day,  Deeford.  I  lunch  with  the  Gold- 
smiths' Company  at  one;  I  have  to  respond  to  the 
toast  of  Literature.  Must  say  something  nice  about 
poor  dear  Lytton.  Thinks  he  can  write  novels. 
[They  laugh]  This  afternoon  Lady  Salisbury  has  a 
garden  party  at  Hatfield.  I  do  hope  it  won't  rain. 
[DISRAELI  turns  his  head  slightly  to  glance  out  of  window, 
FOLJAMBE  quickly  snatches  up  one  dispatch  to  look  at  the 
one  underneath;  DISRAELI  sees  this  out  of  the  corner 
of  his  eye  but  continues]  To-night  Lady  Beacons- 
field  and  I  dine  at  the  French  Embassy  —  admirable 
cooking!  —  We  have  promised  to  look  in  at  the  Lyceum 
to  see  Irving's  Hamlet.  I  shall  probably  sup  with 
him  at  the  Beefsteak  Club.  A  strenuous  day, 
Deeford. 

CHARLES  [Laughing]    But  no  work,  sfr! 

DISRAELI.  The  less  a  Prime  Minister  does,  the 
fewer  mistakes  he  is  apt  to  make.  [Smiling]  That's 
rather  good.  Mr.  Foljambe,  please  make  a  note 
54 


DISRAELI 

of  that.  [FOLJAMBE  watching  DISRAELI  deliberately 
puts  the  packet  of  white  papers  which  DISRAELI  gave 
him  on  top  of  the  dispatches,  then  makes  a  note  in  a  note 
book  which  he  carries]  The  less  a  Prime  Minister  —  I 
must  say  that  at  Manchester  —  Manchester  will  appre- 
ciate that.  And  it  will  infuriate  John  Bright.  He  has 
no  sense  of  humour.  [CHARLES  and  DISRAELI  laugh. 
FOLJAMBE  having  made  the  note,  now  picks  up  the  white 
papers  and  the  dispatches  as  well  —  and  moves  towards 
door  as  DISRAELI  comes  to  him] 

DISRAELI  [Glancing  at  the  table  as  he  comes  up  to  FOL- 
JAMBE and  noticing  that  the  dispatches  are  gone]  You 
might  take  up  your  quarters  [Pointing  to  the  door  in 
the  right  corner]  in  this  room  —  it's  more  handy.  I 
shall  be  able  to  see  a  great  deal  more  of  you  —  You 
have  the  papers?  [Looking  through  the  papers  in  FOL- 
JAMBE'S  hand,  fingering  them  and  turning  them  over] 
Oh,  these  are  the  dispatches  from  Russia. 

FOLJAMBE  [Confused]     I  beg  your  pardon,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  Oh,  a  very  natural  mistake.  [Takes 
them  and  replaces  them  on  table] 

[Enter  LADY  BEACONSFIELD,  dressed  to  go  out] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Are  n't  you  coming  this 
morning?  [CHARLES  rises  at  once  and  places  chair  for 
her] 

DISRAELI.  I'm  afraid  you  must  enjoy  the  Park 
without  me,  Mary.  I  am  expecting  a  very  important 
visitor  this  morning.  [LADY  BEACONSFIELD  sits]  [To 
FOLJAMBE]  That  reminds  me.  Mr.  Meyers  is  coming 
presently  — 

FOLJAMBE  [Impressed]    Mr.  Hugh  Meyers  —  ? 

DISRAELI.    Mr.    Hugh    Meyers,    the    banker   and 
millionaire.    I  may  require  your  assistance. 
65 


DISRAELI 

FOLJAMBE.     I  shall  be  here  all  the  morning. 

DISRAELI.  Thank  you.  [As  FOLJAMBE  lingers] 
Is  there  anything  else? 

FOLJAMBE  [Indicating  the  blue  papers  which  DISRAELI 
is  still  holding]  Those  papers,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  Oh  —  to  be  sure!  There.  [Holding 
them  while  FOLJAMBE  takes  one  end]  That's  the  Blue 
one  and  the  White  one  —  blue  and  white  —  that's 
curious  —  [Their  eyes  meet]  Thank  you. 

[Exit  FOLJAMBE] 

[DISRAELI  goes  up  with  him,  then  turns.  To  CHARLES 
who  is  at  the  writing  table  making  notes  on  a  document] 
Charming  man,  is  n't  he? 

CHARLES  [Hesitating]    Yes  — 

DISRAELI  [With  a  laugh]  That  was  a  very  negative 
yes. 

CHARLES.    He  never  looks  one  in  the  face. 

DISRAELI.  Ah  —  it's  the  man  who  does  look  one 
in  the  face  one  must  have  doubts  about. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Anxiously]  Dizzy  —  why  is 
Mr.  Meyers  coming  to  see  you? 

DISRAELI  [At  the  writing  table]  On  very  urgent 
business,  my  dear.  • 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Is  it  anything  personal, 
Dizzy? 

DISRAELI  [To  CHARLES]  Deeford,  this  Saint  mar- 
ried me  when  I  was  up  to  my  neck  in  debt;  and  I  do 
believe  she  thinks  I  am  going  to  borrow  money  of 
Meyers  now.  [CHARLES  laughs,  goes  back  to  his  own 
table  and  sits] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  I  believe  whatever  you  tell 
me.  But  this  is  the  first  time  you  have  not  taken  me 
into  your  confidence. 

DISRAELI,    You  shall  know  in  half  an  hour. 
56 


DISRAELI 

[BASCOT,  a  footman  in  morning  livery,  bearing  a 
card  on  a  small  salver,  enters,  and  comes  to 
DISBAELI] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Well  — !  I  shall  cut  my 
drive  short,  and  I  sha'n't  enjoy  it  a  bit.  [Rises] 

DISRAELI  [Rising,  leans  over  table  and  lays  an  affec- 
tionate hand  on  LADY  BEACONSFIELD'S  arm,  taking  the 
card  at  the  same  time  and  glancing  at  it]  There!  There! 
Come  back  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour.  [After  looking 
<d  the  card]  Oh,  wait  a  moment!  [To  BASCOT]  Show 
him  in.  Here  is  Mr.  Meyers.  [To  LADY  BEACONS- 
FIELD]  Now  you'll  see  he's  not  so  very  terrible. 

[BASCOT  opens  the  door;  announces  "  Mr.  Hugh 
Meyers"  and  exit.  Enter  MEYERS,  a  charm- 
ing man,  with  only  the  faintest  traces  of  the 
Jew] 

DISRAELI  [Meeting  him  at  the  door  and  shaking 
hands  with  him]  Good  morning,  Mr.  Meyers.  Lady 
Beaconsfield  —  Lord  Dee'ford. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [After  acknowledging  MEYERS, 
passes  on  to  the  door,  turns  and  says  playfully  to  DIS- 
RAELI] I  shall  be  back  in  ten  minutes! 

DISRAELI  [Holding  the  door  open  for  her]  The 
sooner  the  better,  my  dear.  ,-: 

[Exit  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

[He  utters  a  sigh  of  happiness,  closes  the  door  and 
comes  to  MEYERS]  Ah!  —  Well,  Deeford  —  observe 
this  unassuming  gentleman.  You  would  pass  him  in 
the  street  without  the  faintest  idea  you  had  rubbed 
elbows  with  one  of  the  world's  greatest  powers  —  ! 

MEYERS     [Modestly]      Oh!      You    embarrass    me! 
Nothing  is  so  easy  as  making  money,  when  that  is  the 
57 


DISRAELI 

only  thing  you  make.    Once  you  have  five  pounds, 
what  is  to  prevent  your  having  five  millions? 

DISRAELI.  Charles,  can  we  scrape  five  pounds 
together  between  us?  [CHARLES  and  MEYERS  laugh] 

MEYERS.  Ah  —  but  my  millions  will  not  keep  the 
daisies  out  of  my  lawn. 

DISRAELI.  No  sir,  but  they  give  you  the  lawn. 
[Breaks  off]  Oh,  excuse  me.  [Goes  up  toward  bell- 
pull]  I  want  to  introduce  you  to  the  excellent  Mr. 
Foljambe.  [Rings]  A  very  promising  assistant  of 
mine.  [To  TEARLE,  who  appears]  Mr.  Foljambe, 
please. 

[Exit  TEARLE] 

[DISRAELI  comes  down  to  MEYERS.    CHARLES  has 
gone  back  to  his  work] 

MEYERS  [Quietly  to  DISRAELI]  The  money  is  on  its 
way. 

DISRAELI  [Interested]    From? 

MEYERS.     From  the  Argentine. 

DISRAELI.    When  will  it  arrive? 

MEYERS.  In  three  weeks.  It's  a  large  sum,  but 
I  have  realised. 

DISRAELI.  Realised!  Explain.  I  am  bad  at  busi- 
ness technique. 

MEYERS  [Smiling]  Converted  into  cash,  to  be 
placed  at  my  disposal  in  the  Bank  of  England  — 

DISRAELI  [With  a  laugh]    That's  rather  humorous — ! 

[Enter  FOLJAMBE] 

MEYERS.    Why? 

DISRAELI.  Nothing.  I  was  thinking  of  Probert. 
[They  laugh]  Ah,  Mr.  Foljambe!  This  is  Mr.  Hugh 
Meyers.  [To  MEYERS  patting  FOLJAMBE'S  shoulder] 
58 


DISRAELI 

Such  a  worker!  What  was  the  precise  sum  required 
for  the  Drainage  of  London  Bill?  [MEYERS  •and 
CHARLES  show  surprise.  FOLJAMBE  glances  at  them 
keenly] 

FOLJAMBE.  I  am  afraid  I  cannot  say  off-hand, 
sir. 

DISBAELI.     Kindly  look  up  the  figures  for  me. 

FOLJAMBE.     Certainly,  sir. 

DISRAELI  [Going  up  with  FOLJAMBE]  You  have 
the  paper,  you  know,  the  white  one. 

[Exit  FOLJAMBE] 

MEYERS  [Puzzled]    The  Drainage  of  London  Bill? 

CHARLES  [Rising  and  laughing}  How  unromantic! 
And  how  disappointing! 

DISRAELI  [Crossing,  stops  with  a  sharp  look  at  him] 
Why? 

CHARLES.  I  had  hoped  Mr.  Meyers  had  come  on 
a  much  more  important  matter. 

DISRAELI.    Oh?  —  What? 

CHARLES.  The  Suez  Canal.  [MEYERS  looks  re- 
proachfully at  DISRAELI,  CHARLES  becomes  confused 
realising  that  he  has  blundered] 

DISRAELI  [After  a  pause,  to  CHARLES,  coldly]  In- 
deed? —  Mr.  Meyers,  shall  we  go  into  the  next  room? 
[He  moves  to  the  door  L.,  opens  it,  and  MEYERS  passes 
out;  then  he  comes  down  to  CHARLES]  You're  quite 
right,  it  is  the  Suez  Canal.  As  you  have  hit  upon  the 
truth,  it  is  better  I  should  tell  you,  that  until  I  am 
ready  [With  emphasis]  not  a  syllable  must  be 
breathed  on  this  matter.  Is  that  clear? 

CHARLES  [Earnestly]    On  my  honour,  sir  — 

DISRAELI.  Thank  you.  So  sorry  to  keep  you 
waiting,  Mr.  Meyers  — 

[Exit  L.] 
59 


DISRAELI 

[CHARLES  utters  a  surprised  whistle.  Then  he  sits 
at  writing  table.  Enter  FOLJAMBE  R.  with  papers. 
He  looks  around,  surprised  at  DISRAELI'S  absence] 

FOLJAMBE  .  [Coming  down]    Mr.  Disraeli,  sir? 

CHARLES  [Pointing  L.  without  looking  up]    In  there. 

FOLJAMBE.     With  Meyers? 

CHARLES  [Stiffly]     With  Mr.  Meyers.     Yes. 

FOLJAMBE  [Coming  nearer]     Here  are  the  papers. 

CHARLES  [Still  engrossed  in  his  work]  Thank 
you.  , 

FOLJAMBE  [Moving  quickly  towards  door  L.]  Shall  I 
take  them  in? 

CHARLES.    No.    Give  them  to  me. 

FOLJAMBE  [Coming  down  behind  CHARLES;  persistent] 
Will  you  take  them  in,  my  lord? 

CHARLES  [Curtly]    Presently. 

FOLJAMBE.    But  — 

CHARLES  [Short]    Presently. 

FOLJAMBE  [Insidiously]  Ah!  I  thought  the  papers 
weren't  wanted! 

CHARLES  [Surprised,  but  only  half  attending]    Eh? 

FOLJAMBE.  Mr.  Meyers  was  n't  sent  for  —  for  a 
paltry  half  million! 

CHARLES  [Curtly]    I  am  very  busy. 

FOLJAMBE  [Comes  to  the  back  of  CHARLES'  chair, 
watching  CHARLES  keenly]  He's  here  for  the  Suez 
Canal.  [CHARLES  leaps  out  of  his  chair.  The  two  men 
stand  facing  each  other.  Enter  BASCOT  R.] 

BASCOT  [Announcing]  Lady  Clarissa  Pevensey  and 
Mrs.  Travers.  [FOLJAMBE  looks  quickly  towards  the 
door  at  the  mention  of  MRS.  TRAVERS] 

CHARLES  [Mastering  himself,  to  FOLJAMBE,  dismissing 
him]    Thank  you,  Mr.  Foljambe. 
SO 


[FOLJAMBE  goes  towards  his  door.  Enter  CLARISSA 
followed  by  MRS.  TRAVERS] 

CLARISSA  [As  she  enters,  brightly]  Here's  an  in- 
vasion! [Shakes  hands  with  CHARLES] 

CHARLES  [Speaking  to  both  the  LADIES]  I  am  more 
than  delighted  —  [He  turns  to  CLARISSA] 

[FOLJAMBE  and  MRS.  TRAVERS  exchange  a  look,  BAS- 
cox  exit,  closing  the  door.  FOLJAMBE  approaches 
MRS.  TRAVERS  to  whisper  something  to  her;  she 
motions  him  to  be  still;  he  retires  towards  door  R. 
hastily  writes  something  on  a  small  pad  which  he 
carries,  tears  off  the  leaf,  folds  it  and  places  it 
on  the  corner  of  a  pedestal.  MRS.  TRAVERS, 
watching  CHARLES  and  CLARISSA,  goes  up  to  the 
pedestal  and  takes  the  paper  unobserved] 

[Exit  FOLJAMBE] 

CLARISSA.  Agatha  is  staying  in  town  with  us  on 
our  way  to  Scotland.  We  came  to  take  Lady  Beacons- 
field  into  the  Park,  but  she  has  gone.  Agatha  wanted 
to  see  Mr.  Disraeli's  sanctum,  and,  to  tell  the  truth, 
I  was  dying  to  see  how  you  looked  in  the  throes  of 
toil. 

CHARLES  [Laughing]  Oh,  the  throes  of  toil  have  n't 
undermined  my  constitution  yet.  [Turns  away  from 
her  laughing,  to  come  to  back  of  DISRAELI'S  table] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Having  safely  got  the  paper  off  the 
pedestal]  We  expected  to  find  you  with  a  wet  towel 
round  your  head  — 

CHARLES.     So  far  I  've  done  nothing  but  look  on. 
CLARISSA.     I  thought  you  looked  worried  when  we 
came  in. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [At  the  writing  table]  Which  is  the 
pen,  Lord  Deeford? 

61 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES  [Behind  the  table]  Eh?  I  beg  your 
pardon? 

MBS.  TRAVEBS.  The  pen  which  is  mightier  than 
the  sword!  —  Mr.  Benjamin  Disraeli's  own  pen. 

CnABiiES.  Oh!  [Laughs]  Behold  it!  [He  hand* 
her  a  very  shabby  quill] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Holding  it  up  with  romantic  ad- 
miration] Oh  happy  bird  that  bore  this  quill! 

CHARLES.  Yes;  but  that  did  n't  prevent  its  being 
eaten  at  Michaelmas.  [CHARLES  and  CLARISSA  laugh] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Stitt  holding  it  up]  Shame!  Shame! 
It  should  have  been  pensioned  in  some  green  meadow 
by  a  running  stream. 

CLARISSA.  What  a  sight  it  would  have  looked, 
without  its  feathers!  [They  laugh] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Ah!  You  have  no  reverence! 
No  sense  of  awe!  [She  puts  down  the  quill  solemnly] 

[Enter  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Bascot  told  me  you  were 
here.  [CLARISSA  and  she  meet  and  kiss.  LADY 
BEACONSFIELD  then  turns  to  MRS.  TRAVERS]  How 
d'  ye  do!  [To  CHARLES]  Where  is  Mr.  Disraeli? 

CHARLES.  Still  closeted  with  Mr.  Meyers.  [MRS. 
TRAVERS  starts] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Smiling]  The  financier!  How  dull! 
[CHARLES  goes  to  his  own  table] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Dull!    I'm  on  tenterhooks! 

[Enter    DISRAELI    and    MEYERS;  they    are    both 
radiant] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Ah!    At  last! 
DISRAELI  [To    LADY    BEACONSFIELD]    Well,    well, 
well!    Back  already?     [To  CLARISSA]     Come   to  see 


DISRAELI 

the  neophyte?  Ah,  Mrs.  Travers?  [Glancing  towards 
MEYEKS]  Do  you  know,  I  half  expected  this  visit. 
Allow  me  —  [Presenting]  Mr.  Hugh  Meyers  —  Lady 
Clarissa  Pevensey  —  Mrs.  —  ah  —  Travers.  [MBS. 
TRAVERS  goes  up  to  MEYERS  smiling;  they  shake  hands. 
DISRAELI  comes  to  LADY  BEACONSFIELD]  Now,  my 
dear,  we'll  let  you  into  the  secret.  [Takes  her  over 
and  opens  the  entrance-door.  She  passes  out]  Mr. 
Meyers.  [MEYERS  comes  to  him]  We  can  tell  Lady 
Beaconsfield  now.  [Exit  MEYERS]  [To  CHARLES]  I 
shall  not  be  gone  five  minutes. 

[Exit  DISRAELI.    He  leaves  the  door  ajar] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Who  has  been  watching  them  closely] 
Well!  That's  a  nice  thing!  Leaves  us  planted  like 
this!  And  why  is  Lady  Beaconsfield  so  excited?  [To 
CHARLES]  Was  this  a  momentous  interview? 

CHARLES  [Stiffly]    I  really  cannot  tell  you. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  That  means  it  was.  Oh,  how 
proud  you  must  feel  to  be  in  all  the  state  secrets! 

CHARLES.    But  I  am  not. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Indicating  letters,  etc.]  But  all  the 
correspondence  —  ? 

CHARLES.  It  is  meaningless  to  me.  I  am  like  the 
apothecary's  apprentice.  I  pound  the  drugs  in  a 
mortar;  but  I  have  n't  the  smallest  idea  of  their 
properties. 

CLARISSA  [Who  has  been  admiring  the  flowers  in  the 
greenhouse,  turns,  suddenly  struck  by  his  tone]  How 
humbly  you  speak  of  yourself! 

CHARLES.  That  is  the  point  I  have  reached.  I 
now  know  that  I  know  nothing. 

CLARISSA.    That   is   a   great  stride   towards  your 
1,  is  n't  it? 

63 


DISRAELI 

CHABLES  [With  meaning]    Is  it? 

CLARISSA.  I  think  so.  [She  smiles  and  turns  away 
to  the  window] 

CHABLES  [Looks  at  MRS.  TBAVEBS;  then  gently 
places  a  chair  for  her.  She  laughs  and  shakes  her  parasol 
at  him.  He  goes  to  CLARISSA]  Are  you  admiring  our 
famous  window-garden? 

CLARISSA.  Poor  London  plants,  dreaming  of  blue 
skies! 

CHARLES.  Come  and  look  at  them.  When  they  see 
your  eyes  their  dream  will  be  realised. 

CLARISSA  [Laughing]  Giant  strides,  Charles!  [MRS. 
TRAVERS  has  strolled  over  to  the  chair  CHARLES  places 
for  her.  She  brings  it  more  to  C.  in  front  of  table  and 
coughs  discreetly] 

CHARLES  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS]    May  we? 

Mss.  TRAVERS  [Laughing]  Yes.  But  let  an  old 
woman  sit  still  and  rest  her  weary  bones.  [CLARISSA 
and  CHARLES  go  out  into  the  balcony-garden] 

[MRS.  TRAVERS  sits  at  the  writing  table.  She  slips 
the  note  FOLJAMBE  left  out  of  her  glove,  reads 
it,  looks  at  the  table.  Picks  up  a  paper  knife, 
toys  with  it,  beats  a  tattoo  with  it  on  the  table. 
As  at  a  preconcerted  signal,  enter  FOLJAMBE  with 
papers.  He  closes  the  door  and  stands  against  it] 

FOLJAMBE  [Under  his  breath]    Agatha  — ! 
MRS.    TRAVERS.    Sh!  —  Meyers? 
FOLJAMBE.    Yes. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    About  the  canal  —  ? 
FOLJAMBE.    Yes. 
MRS.  TRAVERS.    They  are  agreed, 
FOLJAMBE.    How  do  you  know? 
MRS.  TRAVERS.    Both  radiant, 
M 


DISRAELI 

FOLJAMBE  [Eagerly]    Then  —  ? 

MBS.  TRAVEBS.  Cairo.  Start  now.  [FOLJAMBE 
starts  slightly]  Now! 

FOUAMBE.     Instructions? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    At  Trieste. 

FOLJAMBE  [Surprised]    Trieste?    How? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     By  way  of  Ostend. 

FOLJAMBE.  Ostend?  [DISRAELI  re-enters.  He 
catches  the  last  word,  but  does  not  betray  anything. 
He  comes  directly  to  MRS.  TRAVERS,  who  is  sitting  in 
front  of  table} 

DISRAELI.    All  alone,  Mrs.  Travers? 

FOLJAMBE  [Slamming  the  door  at  which  he  is  standing 
as  if  he  had  just  entered,  and  coming  down]  The  esti- 
mates you  were  asking  for,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  Oh,  thank  you.  We  managed  on  a 
rough  guess.  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS]  Mr.  Foljambe  — 
such  a  worker  —  sorry  I  put  you  to  so  much  trouble. 

FOLJAMBE.  A  great  pleasure,  sir.  [Goes  toward 
door]  [DISRAELI  turns  to  MRS.  TRAVERS,  then  looks 
over  his  shoulder  towards  FOLJAMBE] 

DISRAELI.  And  how  is  your  poor  husband,  Mrs. 
Travers?  [FOLJAMBE  at  the  door  turns  quickly;  then  exit] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Saint-like]  Just  the  same.  At 
Kissingen,  you  know. 

DISRAELI.  Too  bad,  too  bad.  What  have  you 
done  with  the  young  people? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Pointing  to  the  window]  There. 
[Rises]  Will  you  kindly  make  my  excuses  to  Clarissa? 
[Offering  her  hand] 

DISRAELI.    You  are  not  going  so  abruptly? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  I  have  to  accompany  the  dear 
Duchess.  She  is  organising  a  bazaar,  and  I  am 
secretary. 

65 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Taking  her  hand]  Ah  —  always  occupied 
with  good  works.  Always  with  your  hand  in  some  great 
undertaking.  In  secret,  too.  [She  protests  laughing] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Going  to  door  down  R.]  Oh!  —  It 
has  been  a  great  privilege  to  see  the  sanctuary.  [Dis- 
RAELI  accompanies  her,  holds  the  door  open]  Not  a 
step,  Mr.  Disraeli  —  not  a  step. 

DISRAELI  [Catting  to  BASCOT]    Mr.  Bascot.  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Oh,  thank  you  —  thank  you. 
Good-bye,  Mr.  Disraeli,  good-bye.  [He  shows  her  out 
graciously,  closes  the  door  and  stands  there  thinking  — 
he  mutters  "Ostend,"  "Ostend."  He  comes  slowly  to  his 
table,  behind  it,  and  inspects  it  closely  to  see  if  anything 
has  been  disarranged.  Finding  nothing,  he  picks  up  a 
paper  knife,  and,  sitting  down,  begins  thinking  again. 
While  he  is  in  deep  thought  he  abstractedly  beats  a  tattoo 
on  the  table  with  the  paper  knife} 

FOLJAMBE  [Quickly  opens  his  door  but  starts  back  on 
teeing  DISRAELI]  Oh,  I  —  I  —  beg  your  pardon,  sir. 
I  thought  you  called.  [Closes  the  door  again] 

[DISRAELI  ha»  turned  slowly  to  him;  then  looking  at 
the  paper  knife  in  his  hand  he  realises  the  use  it 
has  been  put  to,  and  that  FOLJAMBE  and  MRS. 
TRAVERS  have  had  a  meeting.  He  throws  the 
knife  down  in  disgust  and  calls  CHARLES] 

DISRAELI.  Charles!  [CHARLES  and  CLARISSA  come 
in  from  the  balcony]  [To  CLARISSA]  Sorry  to  inter- 
rupt you.  [To  CHARLES]  Did  Foljambe  ever  bring 
those  papers? 

CHARLES  [Going  to  his  table  and  sitting  with  his  back 
to  the  room]  Oh  yes!  Long  ago. 

DISRAELI  [Rising]  Ah!  Why  did  n't  you  send  him 
in  with  them? 

66 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES.  I  thought  you  would  not  like  to  be 
disturbed. 

DISRAELI  [Coming  over  to  CHARLES]  Quit*  right.  — 
Did  he  say  anything? 

CHARLES.    I  thought  him  rather  impertinent. 

DISRAELI  [Carelessly]    Oh!    How? 

CLARISSA.    Shall  I  go? 

DISRAELI.    No,  my  dear.  —  Well? 

CHARLES.    He  asked  questions. 

DISRAELI.    Yes? 

CHARLES  [Turning]  But  I  snubbed  him.  Finally 
he  had  the  impertinence  to  say  you  were  seeing 
Meyers  about  —  [He  looks  at  CLARISSA  and  stops] 

DISRAELI  [Impatiently]    Well? 

CHARLES.  Am  I  to  speak  in  Lady  Pevensey's  pres- 
ence? 

DISRAELI.    Yes,  yes!    Go  on! 

CHARLES.    About  the  Suez  Canal. 

DISRAELI.    And  what  did  you  say? 

CHARLES.    Not  a  word,  of  course. 

DISRAELI.  Oh?  —  [After  a  pause]  Then  how  did 
you  snub  him? 

CHARLES  [Suiting  the  action  to  the  word]  I  merely 
stood  up  —  and  looked  at  him. 

DISRAELI  [Throwing  up  his  hands  in  horror]  Oh  —  I 
[He  strides  angrily  across  the  room  and  turns] 

CHARLES  [Amazed]    What? 

DISRAELI.  What  more  could  you  have  told  him  if 
you  had  talked  an  hour? 

CHARLES  [Hotly]    Do  you  accuse  me  of  speaking? 

DISRAELI  [Sternly]  No,  sir.  I  accuse  you  of  hold- 
ing your  tongue  too  eloquently. 

CHARLES.    Oh,  well!    He  is  easily  muzzled. 

DISRAELI.    How? 

87 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES.  Put  him  on  his  parole.  I  will  fetch 
him.  [Going  quickly  towards  FOLJAMBE'S  door] 

DISRAELI  [Ringing  bell]  Ah!  Capital!  Fetch  him 
by  ail  means.  [CHARLES  goes  into  the  office] 

DISRAELI.  Mr.  Tearle!  Mr.  Tearle!  [TEARLE  ap- 
pears} Send  for  the  Senior  Queen's  messenger  at  once. 

[TEARLE  exit] 

[DISRAELI  comes  down] 

CLARISSA  [Who  has  been  watching  intently]  Has 
Charles  made  a  mistake? 

DISRAELI.  A  horrible  one.  [To  CHARLES  who  re- 
enters]  Well?  He's  not  there? 

CHABLES  [Almost  frightened]  He  is  not  in  his 
room,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  No?  —  Shall  I  tell  you  where  he  is?  He 
is  at  Victoria  Station  catching  the  ten-thirty  express  on 
his  way  to  Ostend,  to  Trieste,  and  so  to  Alexandria. 

CHARLES  [Alarmed]    For  God's  sake,  sir,  who  is  he? 

DISRAELI.  He  is  Mrs.  Travers'  husband.  [CLAR- 
ISSA and  CHARLES  utter  a  cry  of  amazement]  Yes  — 
He  and  she  are  agents  —  spies  —  Russia  has  sent 
here  to  discover  —  what  you  have  told  them. 

CHARLES.    Have  him  arrested! 

DISRAELI.    On  what  grounds?    What  has  he  done? 

CHARLES.  But  why  did  you  employ  him,  knowing 
he  was  a  spy? 

DISRAELI  [Coming  over  towards  CHARLES]  Because 
I  knew  it!  Because  I  wanted  to  have  him  under  my 
own  eye!  For  weeks  he  has  been  seen  prying  about  in 
this  room  secretly.  I  knew  it.  [Passing  up  to  the  back 
of  the  table  and  indicating  papers  on  it]  I  've  laid  traps 
for  him  —  letters  for  him  to  read.  I  had  him  on  a 
false  scent  when  you  — 

68 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES  [Miserably]     When  I  blundered  — 

DISRAELI.    When  you  lost  control  of  your  features. 

CHARLES.    Is  there  nothing  I  can  say  or  do? 

DISRAELI.    I  fear  not. 

CLARISSA.  Will  you  tell  us  why  silence  is  so  im- 
portant —  ? 

DISRAELI.  Oh,  now  it 's  of  no  importance  what- 
ever. [CLARISSA  sits  in  DISRAELI'S  chair  behind  the 
table  despairingly]  Yes  —  [To  CHARLES]  You  ought 
to  know,  so  that  in  future  — 

CHARLES  [Miserably]  Future!  What  future  is  there 
for  me? 

DISRAELI.  So  that  in  future  you  may  control  your 
features  jis  well  as  your  tongue.  Sit  down!  [CHARLES 
sits  on  CLARISSA'S  right.  DISRAELI  stands  on  her 
left.  CLARISSA  and  CHARLES  listen  to  him  intently} 
Ismail  Pasha,  Khedive  of  Egypt,  is  under  the  im- 
pression he  is  Rameses  the  Great;  but  the  only 
Pyramid  he  has  raised  is  a  pyramid  of  debt.  Egypt 
is  a  dry  bone,  out  of  which  he  has  sucked  the  last 
ounce  of  marrow.  The  last  assets  he  has  are  the  con- 
trolling shares  in  the  Suez  Canal,  and  these  he  is  dying 
to  sell  to  the  highest  bidder.  France  built  the  canal, 
but  is  too  poor  to  buy  it.  Russia  covets  it  as  a  means 
of  snatching  India;  England,  as  a  means  of  defending 
it.  Both  pretend  the  purchase  is  the  last  thing  they 
are  thinking  of;  both  are  watching  each  other  like 
cats;  and  Ismail  sits  and  waits  for  the  cat  to  jump 
[With  emphasis]  Those  shares  I  mean  to  have!  — 

CLARISSA  and  CHARLES  [Exchange  a  look]     Ah! 

DISRAELI.  The  Bank  of  England  refused  to  back 
me;  but  to-day  Meyers  has  given  me  a  blank  cheque. 
I  thought  the  thing  was  done.  But  now  Foljambe 
knows  —  Russia  knows.  In  a  week  Foljambe  will 


DISRAELI 

be  in  Cairo,  and  whatever  sum  I  offer  he  will  double. 
Now  do  you  see  the  importance  of  it?  [Sits  in  the 
chair  on  CLARISSA'S  left,  sunk  in  thought] 

CHARLES.    And  all  because  I  was  startled! 

DISRAELI.    Yes. 

CLARISSA.    Is  there  no  remedy? 

DISRAELI.    Of  course  there  is. 

CHARLES  [Eagerly]    What,  sir?    What? 

DISRAELI.  I  must  send  a  man  to  the  Khedive  with 
unlimited  powers;  ready  to  outbid  anything,  and 
ready  to  pay  on  the  nail. 

CHARLES.    What  must  be  the  man's  qualifications? 

DISRAELI.  Ah — !  A  strong,  stern,  silent  man; 
subtle  and  cunning;  fighting  wiliness  with  wiliness. 
[CLARISSA  boivs  her  head  on  the  table] 

CHARLES  [Anxiously]  Have  you  such  a  man, 
sir? 

DISRAELI  [Sharply]  I've  sent  for  him.  [To  CLAR- 
ISSA, who  is  weeping  silently]  Why,  child,  what  is 
the  matter?  [He  comes  to  her  quickly]  What  is  it, 
Clarissa? 

CLARISSA.  Oh,  don't  take  any  notice!  I  am  child- 
ish this  morning.  I  suppose  it  is  disappointment. 
For  a  moment  —  while  you  were  speaking  —  I  had 
hoped  —  that  perhaps  —  [She  is  looking  at  CHARLES] 

CHARLES  [Distressed]  Ah,  don't  say  it,  Clarissa.' 
Don't  say  it! 

DISRAELI  [Looking  at  CHARLES,  and  speaking  slowly 
but  with  growing  enthusiasm]  Yes!  Do  say  it,  Clar- 
issa! Do  say  it!  Because  there  is  another  kind  of 
man  who  might  be  twice  as  useful. 

CLARISSA  [Eagerly]    What  kind  —  ? 

DISRAELI  [Coming  towards  CHARLES]  A  man  so 
honest  that  the  rogues  would  think  him  a  rogue;  so 
70 


DISRAELI 

truthful  that  they'd  swear  he  was  lying;  so  simple 
that  they  'd  never  fathom  him  — 

CHARLES  [Rising  indignantly]  Why  laugh  at  me, 
sir?  I  feel  my  folly  bitterly  enough! 

DISRAELI  [Beside  CLARISSA  where  she  is  still  sitting] 
What  is  the  matter,  Deeford? 

CHARLES.  Disgust  —  utter  disgust  with  myself. 
And  despair.  [TEARLE  appears] 

DISRAELI.    Why  despair? 

TEARLE  [Announcing]    The  Queen's  messenger! 

DISRAELI.  Not  wanted!  [To  CHARLES]  You  are 
the  man!  [Exit  TEARLE]  [CHARLES  and  CLARISSA 
utter  a  cry  of  amazement]  You  are  the  man! 

CHARLES.  I  —  ?  I,  to  be  trusted  with  this  mission 
after  what  I  have  done? ; 

DISRAELI.    Why  not? 

CHARLES.  Am  I  the  man  you  want?  Ah,  you 
know  I'm  not.  I  am  a  useless,  conceited  idler  —  a 
perfect  and  complete  fool! 

DISRAELI.  Well  —  granting  that  —  [he  turns  to 
CLARISSA]  I  did  n't  say  it  —  [to  CHARLES]  but 
granting  that,  that  is  a  very  good  reason  for  sending 
you. 

CHARLES.     But  I  have  failed  already! 

DISRAELI.  Nearly  all  my  successes  in  life  are 
founded  on  previous  failures.  On  your  own  showing 
nobody  will  suspect  you.  You  have  only  to  meet  all 
the  cunning  with  that  stolid  British  face  of  yours, 
and  the  schemers  will  be  disarmed.  Come!  Will 
you  go? 

CHARLES  [Enthusiastically]    Will  I  go! 

CLARISSA  [Rising  excitedly  and  coming  to  CHARLES] 
Ah!  4 

DISRAELI.  Aha!  There's  your  man  of  actions 
71 


DISRAELI 

Clarissa!    [Slowly  to  CHARLEB]    I  warn  you!    There 
will  be  grave  danger!     Are  you  ready  to  meet  it? 

CHARLES.    Gladly! 

DISRAELI.    I  mean  —  danger  of  —  death  — ? 

CHARLES  [Quietiy]    Yes,  sir! 

CLARISSA  [Looking  at  CHARLES,  repeats  the  word 
with  new  horror]  Death  —  ? 

DISRAELI  [To  her]  Every  step  of  the  way  —  every 
hour  of  the  day  —  Danger  lurking  in  every  seductive 
disguise.  When  once  he  is  in  Egypt,  if  his  errand  be 
known,  his  life  will  not  be  worth  a  moment's  purchase. 

CLARISSA  [Her  eyes  fixed  on  CHARLES]  I  didn't 
know  —  I  did  n't  know! 

DISRAELI  [Tenderly  grave]  Clarissa,  my  child,  do 
you  forbid  him  to  go? 

CLARISSA.    I  —  I  cannot  forbid. 

DISRAELI.  Oh  yes,  you  can.  He  shall  obey  you. 
But  think  a  moment.  If  you  forbid  him,  and  he 
obeys,  and  I  send  that  other  man  —  how  will  you  feel? 

CHARLES  [Appealing  softly]    Clarissa! 

CLARISSA  [After  a  struggle  with  herself]  You  must 
go! 

DISRAELI  AND  CHARLES  [Together]    Ah! 

DISRAELI.  Well  done!  [Holding  out  his  hands  to 
her,  as  she  comes  to  him]  I  think  I  may  tell  him  —  may 
I  not?  —  there  is  a  great  reward  awaiting  his  return. 
[CLARISSA  bows  her  head] 

CHARLES.     If  I  succeed? 

DISRAELI  [To  CLARISSA]  Whether  he  succeed  or 
fail,  eh?  [She  bows  her  head  in  assent]  Good!  —  Now 
then.  [To  CHARLES]  When  shall  you  be  ready  to 
start?  [He  goes  to  his  chair  behind  the  table  and  sits] 

CHARLES  [Hastily,  coming  to  the  table]    I  think  I 
could  start  the  day  after  to-morrow. 
72 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Capital!  That  will  make  the  under- 
taking so  much  more  interesting. 

CHARLES  [Innocently]    How  do  you  mean,  sir? 

DISRAELI.  Why,  your  friend  Foljambe  will  have 
forty-eight  hours  start  with  Ismail.  [Takes  a  Brad- 
show  out  of  the  drawer  of  the  table  and  consults  it] 

CHARLES.     You  mean  I  shall  be  too  late? 

DISRAELI.     I  am  trying  to  convey  that  impression. 

CHARLES.    Well  —  to-morrow,  then,  if  it  must  be! 

DISRAELI.  That 's  better!  —  but  Foljambe  can  do 
a  great  deal  in  a  day. 

CHARLES.  Well  —  [Looking  at  his  watch]  —  there 's 
a  night  mail  to-night  at  nine. 

DISRAELI  [Rising  and  closing  CHARLES'  watch]  Now! 

CHARLES  [Bewildered]    Now?    You  don't  mean — ! 

DISRAELI.     I  mean  in  ten  minutes. 

CHARLES.  But  my  luggage  —  !  I  sha'n't  even 
have  a  clean  collar! 

DISRAELI.  Damn  your  collar!  Catch  the  Dover 
Express  at  eleven  from  Charing  Cross.  You'll  be  in 
Marseilles  to-morrow  morning,  and  in  Cairo  a  day 
ahead  of  Foljambe  —  a  day  ahead! 

CHARLES  [Striking  the  table]     By  Jove,  I'll  do  it! 

DISRAELI  [Striking  the  table  harder]  Of  course  you 
will!  Now  children,  say  good-bye  to  each  other. 
I'll  write  your  instructions.  [He  makes  as  if  to  write; 
he  looks  at  the  lovers,  gets  up  and  exit] 

CHARLES  [Coming  quickly  to  CLARISSA]  Clarissa  — 
did  you  hear  what  Mr.  Disraeli  said  just  now  —  the 
hope  he  held  out  of  a  reward? 

CLARISSA.    If  he  had  not  said  it,  I  should  have. 

CHARLES  [Taking  her  hands  in  his]  The  reward 
will  be  mine  if  I  succeed? 

CLARISSA.    Or  if  you  fail. 
78 


DISRAELI 

CHARLES.    Clarissa!    Do  you  love  me,  them 

CLARISSA.    I  love  you. 

CHARLES.    Ah!    What  courage  you  give  me! 

CLARISSA.  I  shall  need  courage,  too!  If  anything 
happens  to  you,  it  will  have  been  my  doing. 

CHARLES.  If  anything  good  happens  to  me,  or  I 
do  anything  good,  that  will  have  been  your  doing. 

CLARISSA.     Charles,  is  that  true? 

CHARLES.  You  know  it  is!  Have  n't  you  changed 
me  already?  You  said  I  had  made  giant  strides.  Who 
but  you  urged  me  on? 

CLARISSA.  And  the  stronger  you  grow,  the  weaker 
I  become. 

CHARLES  [Clasping  her  to  him]    No,  no! 

CLARISSA  [Looking  up  into  his  face  with  her  head  on 
his  shoulder]  Oh,  but  I  like  it! 

CHARLES  [With  playful  reproach]  A  week  ago  you 
did  n't  love  me. 

CLARISSA.  That  was  n't  you.  That  was  the  man 
who  "adumbrated." 

CHARLES  [Wincing]    Don't! 

CLARISSA.  It's  such  a  beautiful  word!  There's 
only  one  word  more  beautiful. 

CHARLES.    What? 

CLARISSA.  [Earnestly]    Hope! 

[DISRAELI  enters  with  an  envelope  containing  writ- 
ten instructions,  money  and  a  green  p*per] 

DISRAELI.    Time 's  up ! 

CHARLES.    Ready,  sir! 

DISRAELI.  Here  is  all  you  need  —  mone*.  instruc- 
tions and  [Displaying  the  green  paper]  a  code  lot  tele- 
grams. I  keep  the  duplicate.  Now  be  offl  [As 
CHARLES  turns  to  CLARISSA]  No,  no — !  Departures 
74 


DISRAELI 

should  be  sudden.     [He  takes  CHARLES'  arm  and  leads 
him  to  door  R.]     Good  luck! 

CHARLES.    Good-bye! 

CLARISSA  [Through  her  tears  —  bravely]    Good  luck! 

CHARLES  [Waving  to  her]     Good-bye! 

[Exit  CHARLES] 

DISRAELI.  Good  luck!  [Stands  at  door  looking 
after  him]  Ah —  !  [He  turns  to  CLARISSA]  Now! 

CLARISSA  [Disconsolately]  What  am  I  to  do?  What 
am  I  to  do? 

DISRAELI  [Thinking  it  over]     Come  for  a  drive. 

CLARISSA.  Oh!  You  are  heartless!  —  How  long 
will  it  be  before  we  hear  from  him? 

DISRAELI.     Three  weeks. 

CLARISSA.    How  am  I  to  wait? 

DISRAELI.    How  am  7  to  wait? 

CLARISSA.    You!    You  don't  love  him. 

DISRAELI.  No?  —  Then  why  did  I  send  him?  — 
Listen.  You  shall  come  to  Hughenden  and  we  '11 
wait  together. 

CLARISSA.    But  three  weeks!    It's  impossible! 

DISRAELI  [With  a  sudden  idea]     Do  as  I  mean  to. 

CLARISSA  [Eagerly]    What? 

DISRAELI.     Come  into  the  country  and  feed  peacocks. 

CLARISSA  [With  great  disgust]     Peacocks! 

DISRAELI  [Linking  his  arm  in  hers  and  leading  her 
out  rapidly]  Very  noble  and  intelligent  birds,  I  assure 
you. 

CURTAIN 


75 


ACT  III 

SCENE  —  At  Hughenden 

DISRAELI'S  study.  A  cosy  oak-panelled  room  with 
large  French  window  in  the  centre  looking  out  on  a  bright 
garden.  It  is  a  summer's  morning.  In  the  panels 
running  around  the  top  of  the  scene  there  are  a  series  of 
steel  engravings  of  statesmen.  Over  the  mantelpiece  are 
some  silhouettes,  also  a  convex  mirror.  There  is  a  sofa, 
down  R.,  a  large  fender  with  a  seat  running  around 
the  fireplace.  Around  the  watts  are  book-cases  all  built 
into  the  scene  and  filled  with  books.  The  light  in  the 
room  is  soft  and  subdued;  outside  it  is  brilliant.  One 
door  L.,  another  up  stage  R.,  and  to  the  left  of  that  door 
is  a  cupboard. 

[When  the  curtain  rises,  DISRAELI,  wearing  an  old 
black  hat,  an  old  brown  velvet  coat,  carrying  a  garden 
spade,  and  wearing  old  boots,  is  seen  standing  in  the  win- 
dow throwing  some  seed  to  the  peacocks,  which  are  supposed 
to  be  off  stage] 

DISRAELI  [Coming  down,  laughing]  Well  —  they  are 
intelligent  birds. 

[POTTER  heard  laughing  off  stage,  comes  to  French 
windows  from  R.] 

POTTER.  Hey,  master,  wheer  be  going  with  that 
spade? 

DISRAELI.    Bless  my  soul! 
POTTER.    And  them  dirty  boots! 
76 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Going  up  to  POTTER  and  giving  him  the 
spade]  Splendid  morning's  work,  eh,  Potter? 

POTTER.  Don't  blame  me  if  you've  caught  your 
death. 

DISRAELI  [Getting  shoes  out  of  cupboard]     Why? 

POTTER.  'T  is  well  knowed  you  ought  to  be  in  your 
bed. 

DISRAELI  [Hanging  his  old  hat  in  the  cupboard  and 
taking  out  his  shoes]  Why?  I  'm  not  ill. 

POTTER.  Yes,  you  are.  Mortal  bad  you  are.  Sez 
so  in  print. 

DISRAELI  [Amused]  Oh!  Where?  [He  sits  and 
changes  his  shoes.  He  throws  the  old  ones  out  in  the 
centre  of  the  floor] 

POTTER.  Last  night's  Globe.  I  read  it  wi*  my  own 
eyes. 

DISRAELI.  A  highly  respectable  sheet.  What  does 
it  say? 

POTTER.  Says  Doctor  Williams  hev  a-bin  seed 
going  in  and  out  here;  and  fears  you're  werry  unwell. 
[Remembering]  An'  that  be  true  too  —  for  Doctor 
Williams,  he  just  drove  by  here  an'  left  this  bottle  o' 
stuff  for  'ee,  sir.  [Giving  him  a  bottle  of  medicine] 

DISRAELI.  Oh,  for  Lady  Beaconsfield.  —  Very  good  of 
them  to  be  so  anxious.  Doctor  Williams  has  been  here 
twice,  to  see  Lady  Beaconsfield,  who  had  a  fainting  fit; 
and  that's  all.  [He  places  the  bottle  on  the  mantelpiece] 

POTTER.    Them  London  newspapers! 


[Enter  B  ASCOT  R.,  with  a  tray,  on  which  is  a 
coffee  pot,  etc.     An  expression  of  dismay  passes 
over  his  face  as  he  notices  the  old  boots  on  the  floor. 
He  looks  hopelessly  at  DISRAELI,  and  goes  on  to 
the  upper  end  of  the  table] 
77 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Ah!  my  coffee!  [Site  jR.  at  the  tabif. 
Pleasantly]  Good  morning,  Mr.  Bascot. 

B ASCOT  [Noticing  DISRAELI'S  coat  with  horror]  Good 
morning,  sir! 

DISRAELI.     Is  your  Mistress  stirring? 

BASCOT.  I  believe  so,  sir.  [Picks  up  boots  and 
takes  them  to  the  cupboard] 

DISRAELI.    And  Lady  Clarissa? 

BASCOT.    Yes,  sir. 

POTTER  [Pointing  off]  Here  be  Postman  Flooks. 
[BASCOT  takes  DISRAELI'S  black  velvet  coat  out  of  the 
cupboard] 

DISRAELI.    Good! 

BASCOT  [Holding  up  the  coat]  May  I  respectfully 
suggest  —  your  coat,  sir? 

DISRAELI.    Oh,  but  this  is  so  comfortable! 

BASCOT  [With  a  discreet  cough]  Postman  Flooks  is 
coming,  sir. 

DISRAELI  [Smiles]  Quite  right,  Mr.  Bascot  —  must 
keep  up  appearances.  [FLOOKS  comes  on  at  back  from 

w 

FLOOKS.    Good  morning,  Mr.  Disraeli. 

DISRAELI.  Good  morning,  Mr.  Flooks  —  Heavy 
bag  this  morning? 

FLOOKS.    Not  so  heavy  as  usual,  this  morning,  sir. 

DISRAELI.  Thank  goodness!  [BASCOT  takes  the  bag 
from  FLOOKS  and  hands  it  to  DISRAELI,  who  goes  back  to 
the  table,  unlocks  the  bag  and  takes  out  the  letters]  Thank 
you,  Mr.  Bascot.  Wife  pretty  well,  Mr.  Flooks? 

FLOORS.  Pretty  middlin',  sir.  Glad  to  see  you're 
about  so  early!  Heard  you  was  poorly,  sir! 

POTTER  [At  the  window]    There! 

DISRAELI.    What,  you  too? 

FLOOKS.    Village  was  main  upset  about  it,  sir. 
78 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI  [Sorting  the  letters]  Give  the  village  my 
love,  and  say  I'm  quite  well,  and  Lady  Beaconsfield 
is  quite  well,  and  the  swans  are  quite  well,  —  and  the 
peacocks  are  extraordinarily  well  —  eh,  Potter? 

POTTER  [Gruffly]    Ay,  drat  'em! 

FLOORS.     Thank  you,  sir.     Good  morning,  sir. 

[Exit] 

DISRAELI  [Handing  BASCOT  some  letters]  Lady  Bea- 
consfield —  Lady  Pevensey. 

BASCOT.    Thank  you,  sir.  [Exit  R.] 

[DISRAELI  sips  his  coffee  and  desultorily  examines 
his  letters] 

POTTER  [Appears  at  the  window  with  two  damaged 
sunflowers  in  his  hands;  he  sighs  heavily  and  comes  in] 
What  her  ladyship '11  say,  when  she  sees  this,  I  don't 
know. 

DISRAELI  [Reading]    Sees  what? 

POTTER.  Why,  these  'ere  sunflowers  she  set  such 
store  by. 

DISRAELI  [StiU  reading]  What 's  the  matter  with 
them? 

POTTER.  Ruination's  the  matter.  Peacocks  is  the 
matter! 

DISRAELI  [Turning  round]     Peacocks,  again! 

POTTER.     'T  is  peacocks  all  the  time! 

[Enter  CLARISSA  R.] 

DISRAELI.  Ah,  good  morning,  my  dear  —  You 
come  in  the  nick  of  time.  Here  is  Potter  scolding  me 
on  account  of  the  poor  peacocks. 

POTTER.  Mornin',  your  Ladyship.  What  I  sez  is, 
what's  the  use  o'  me  and  them  lads  toilin'  and  moilin' 
fit  to  bust  to  keep  the  place  respectable,  when  they 
79 


DISRAELI 

great  ugly  beastes  is  allowed  to  come  squawkin'  all 
over  the  place  —  [Turns  to  go] 

CLARISSA  [Laughing]  We  all  have  our  troubles, 
Mr.  Potter. 

POTTER  [Turning  back  quickly]  Maybe  so;  but 
they  don't  eat  sunflowers  —  ugly  toads!  [Exit] 

CLARISSA  [Eagerly  ;  alluding  to  the  letters]   Any  news? 

DISRAELI.    Not  yet. 

CLARISSA.  Not  yet!  Not  yet!  Not  yet!  —  It 
should  have  come  days  ago!  Should  n't  it?  Shouldn't 
it?  — 

DISRAELI.    Well  — 

CLARISSA.  And  every  day,  the  cry  has  been,  "Not 
yet!" 

DISRAELI.  Remember  the  task  he  has.  Remember 
the  difficulties. 

CLARISSA.     And  the  dangers! 

DISRAELI.  No,  no!  Forget  the  dangers!  Have 
you  breakfasted? 

CLARISSA.  Breakfasted!  —  As  if  I  could  breakfast! 
As  soon  as  eight  o'clock  strikes  I  want  to  be  here, 
to  see  the  telegraph  boy  come.  I  want  to  watch  your 
face  as  you  read  the  message. 

DISRAELI  [Whimsically]  Are  you  so  deeply  in 
love? 

CLARISSA.     Unspeakably! 

DISRAELI  [Drily]  Ah!  I  believe  absence  is  a  great- 
element  of  charm. 

CLARISSA.  Oh  —  you  —  !  Tell  me  the  news  will 
be  good!  Tell  me  so! 

DISRAELI.     I  hope  it  will  be  good. 

CLARISSA.    No,  no! 

DISRAELI.     I  am  sure  it  will  be  good. 

CLARISSA.  Ah!  that's  better.  You  know,  it's  quite 
80 


[DISRAELI 

dreadful  to  be  so  deeply  in  love  as  I  am  —  Ob!  I  sup- 
pose that's  a  horrid  thing  to  say.  I 'm  sure  Mamma 
would  think  it  horrid. 

DISRAELI.    I  'm  sure  Charles  would  think  it  was  n't. 

CLARISSA.  The  point  of  view  does  make  a  differ- 
ence, does  n't  it? 

DISRAELI.  Enormous!  But  why  is  it  so  dreadful 
to  be  in  love? 

CLARISSA.  It's  disastrous.  It  takes  all  the  con- 
ceit out  of  one;  I  used  to  think  I  was  rather  clever, 
and  now  I  don't.  I  used  to  think  —  Oh!  was  n't  I  a 
wretch?  —  I  was  cleverer  than  Charles!  But  now  — 
now,  I  see  that,  however  clever  a  woman  is,  a  man  — 
even  a  stupid  man  — 

DISRAELI.    H'm! 

CLARISSA.  No,  I  do  not  mean  Charles  —  !  can  do 
all  sorts  of  things  a  woman  can't. 

DISRAELI.    Of  course  he  can.    He  can  whistle. 

CLARISSA.    Oh,  so  can  I! 

DISRAELI.    He  can  swear! 

CLARISSA.    So  can  I! 

DISRAELI  [Shocked]    No! 

CLARISSA.  I  do  —  often!  But  I  could  no  more 
have  gone  to  Cairo  alone  and  faced  Ismail  — 

DISRAELI.  I  'm  quite  sure  poor  Ismail  would  have 
collapsed  at  once,  if  you  had.  —  By  Jove,  why  did  n't 
I  think  of  that? 

CLARISSA.  But  I  '11  tell  you  what  I  would  do.  If  I 
knew  Charles  were  in  danger,  I  would  go  out  alone 
and  save  him  somehow;  and  if  I  knew  he  were  ill,  I 
would  go  out  and  nurse  him,  and  bring  him  home. 

DISRAELI  [Coming  to  her  and  taking  her  face  in  his 
hands]  And  that  is  what  very  few  men  would  do,  my 
d«ar;  and  so  you  can  think  well  of  yourself  again* 
81 


But  now,  tell  me  — 'our  little  secret  — ?  [He  sits  beside 
her] 

CLARISSA.    About  Mrs.  Travers? 

DISRAELI.  Yes.  Have  you  kept  what  you  know 
of  that  admirable  lady  to  yourself? 

CLARISSA.    Yes. 

DISRAELI.    Have  n't  even  told  Mamma? 

CLARISSA  [With  mock  solemnity]    Parole  d'honneur! 

DISRAELI.     Good!    Have  you  heard  from  her? 

CLARISSA.  Not  a  sound.  She  is  keeping  very 
quiet. 

DISRAELI  [Pensively]  Yes.  I  don't  like  people 
who  keep  quiet. 

CLARISSA.     Surely  she  can't  do  Charles  any  mischief? 

DISRAELI.    No.     But  should  Charles  have  failed  — 

CLARISSA  [Indignantly]     He  has  n't  failed! 

DISRAELI.  Of  course  he  has  n't.  But  should  he 
have  failed,  she  might  do  a  great  deal  of  mischief  to 
the  scheme. 

CLARISSA  [Stitt  more  indignant]  Do  you  mean  to 
say  you  will  still  carry  out  your  scheme  if  Charles  —  ? 

DISRAELI  [Laying  his  hand  on  hers]  My  dear  —  ! 
Do  you  think  the  British  Empire  will  collapse  when  I 
do?  No!  Charles  and  I  are  only  oiling  the  wheels. 
But  it's  my  duty  to  see  that  no  dust  gets  into  them, 
and  so  I  have  persuaded  Mrs.  Travers  to  come  here  — 

CLARISSA  [Amazed}     Here  —  ! 

DISRAELI.     And  help  you  feed  the  peacocks. 

CLARISSA.     Here?  —  Why? 

DISRAELI.  I  want  to  have  that  ravishing  creature 
where  I  can  see  her.  [Rises] 

CLARISSA.     But  how  did  you  persuade  her? 

DISRAELI.  When  the  telegram  from  Charles  failed 
to  come,  I  threw  out  hints  he  had  succeeded.  She  is 
82 


DISRAELI 

perishing  to  know  the  truth.  She  leapt  at  Lady 
Beaconsfield's  invitation.  She  is  coming  here  to-day. 

CLARISSA  [Laughing]  What  a  pity  Hughendenhas 
no  dungeon! 

DISRAELI.  No,  the  garden  is  better.  I  could  n't 
see  her  in  a  dungeon. 

[Enter  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  R.  She  is  rather  pale 
and  frail  looking.  She  brings  an  open  letter. 
CLARISSA  rises] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Good  morning,  Dizzy! 

DISRAELI  [Tenderly]  Mary,  my  dear!  Have  you 
had  a  good  night? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Of  course  I  have,  Dizzy. 
Slept  like  a  top. 

DISRAELI.    Sure? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Now,  Clarissa,  listen  to  him! 
He  doubts  everybody's  word.  He  doubts  mine! 

DISRAELI.  I  never  can  believe  anything  you  say 
about  yourself,  Mary.  [To  CLARISSA,  taking  LADY 
BEACONSFIELD'S  right  hand]  Do  you  know  what  this 
foolish  woman  did  a  little  while  ago?  She  drove  to 
the  House  of  Commons  with  me  one  night  when  I  had 
to  make  a  very  important  speech.  The  footman 
slammed  the  carriage  door  and  crushed  her  finger  in 
it  — 

CLARISSA  [With  a  cry]    Oh! 

DISRAELI.  Yes!  This  poor  finger.  And  because 
she  knew  how  distressed  I  should  be,  she  never  uttered 
a  sound,  but  bore  the  agony  unflinchingly  —  and  I 
knew  nothing  about  it  till  I  got  home.  [Kisses  the 
finger] 

CLARISSA.    Oh,  how  wonderful! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Coming  over  to  CLARISSA] 
83 


DISRAELI 

Nonsense!  Wait  till  you're  married,  my  dear.  You  '11 
be  doing  just  as  wonderful  things  all  the  time,  and 
thinking  just  as  little  of  them. 

DISRAELI.  Well,  if  you've  spoken  the  truth,  you 
shall  have  your  morning's  offering.  [He  goes  into  the 
garden] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Quickly]  Clarissa!  Never  al- 
lude to  my  health  before  Dizzy!  Promise!  It  worries 
him;  and  Heaven  knows  he  has  worries  enough, 
without  that. 

CLARISSA.    Oh,  but  is  anything  the  matter? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Nothing  —  nothing  to  make 
a  fuss  about.  Doctor  Williams  says  I  must  be  very 
careful.  I  am.  So  that's  all  right.  Now,  mind! 
Not  a  word  to  Dizzy! 

CLARISSA.    The  crushed  finger  again? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Yes!  Gladly,  every  day 
for  his  sake! 

[Re-enter  DISRAELI  from  the  garden,  with  a  rose] 

DISRAELI.  The  last  rose  of  Summer.  [Handing  it 
to  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Thank  you,   Dizzy.    [Kiss] 
,  you  must  attend  to  business. 

(CLARISSA  goes  to  the  window  and  meets  POTTER,  who 
gives  her  flowers.  She  comes  back  to  the  mantel- 
piece and  arranges  them  in  vases] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Alluding  to  the  letter  she  had 
brought}  Lady  Probert  asks  us  to  dine  on  Thursday 
week. 

DISRA.HST.     Lady    Probert?    That's    rather  amus- 
ing!   Sir  Michael  denounces  me  and  thunders  against 
me,  and  — asks  me  to  dinner! 
84 


DISRAELI 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Shall  I  decline? 

DISRAELI.     Are  you  strong  enough  to  go? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  You  absurd  man!  I  am 
strong  enough  to  go  anywhere.  You  are  trying  to 
make  me  out  an  old  woman.  Why,  the  Proberts' 
country  place  is  only  just  outside  our  gates;  it's  not  a 
three  minutes'  drive. 

DISRAELI.  Then  make  friends  with  the  Mammon 
of  unrighteousness,  and  accept. 

[Enter  B ASCOT  L.,  bearing  a  telegram  on  a  salver] 

BASCOT.    Telegram,  sir! 

CLARISSA  [Jumping  down  off  the  fender  seat  on  which 
she  has  been  standing  to  reach  the  vases]  Oh! 

DISRAELI.  Thank  you.  [Pause,  while  BASCOT  takes 
away  the  breakfast  tray  and  exit] 

CLARISSA  [Impatiently]     Open  it!  Open  it!  Open  it! 

DISRAELI  [Opening  the  envelope]  Mary  —  just  look 
after  that  silly  child,  while  I  read  this  telegram  from 
my  tailor. 

[He  reads  the  telegram  deliberately,  while  the  two 
women  watch  him  intently.  His  face  lights  up 
with  joy] 

DISRAELI.    Ah — ! 

CLARISSA  [Breaking  away  from  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 
For  pity's  sake! 

DISRAELI  [Smiling]    It  is  from  Cairo. 

CLARISSA.  What  does  he  say?  [DISRAELI  hands  her 
the  telegram]  [Reading]  "The  celery  is  ripe  to  cut." 

[DISRAELI  laughingly  opens  the  drawer  of  his  writing 
table  and  takes  out  a  green  paper  code,  like  the 
one  he  gave  CHARLES  in  Act  II\ 
85 


DISRAELI 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Takes  telegram  from  CLARISSA 
and  reads]  "The  celery  is  ripe  to  cut."  Well!  I 
must  say,  I  hardly  think  he  need  have  gone  to  the 
expense  of  — 

CLARISSA  [Realising  that  it  is  a  code  message,  snatches 
the  telegram  from  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  and  turns  to 
DISRAELI]  What  does  it  mean? 

DISRAELI  [Rising]  A  great  deal  more  than  it 
says.  Look! 

CLARISSA.    What's  that? 

DISRAELI.  A  copy  of  the  code  I  gave  him.  Look! 
[The  two  women  come  close  to  him]  "The  celery  is 
ripe  to  cut."  The  parallel  sentence:  "The  Suez 
Canal  purchase  is  completed  and  the  cheque  accepted." 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Dizzy! 

DISRAELI  [With  immense  joy]    Yes! 

CLARISSA.    He  has  succeeded? 

DISRAELI.    Superbly! 

CLARISSA  [Breaking  into  sobs]  Oh,  thank  God! 
Thank  God!  [Sinks  on  sofa] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Clarissa! 

DISRAELI.     Let  her  cry,  my  dear;  it's  worth  it. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [To  DISRAELI]  How  glad  you 
must  be! 

DISRAELI.  Glad?  For  now  that  other  dream  of 
mine  will  be  realised. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    What  dream? 

DISRAELI  [Inspired]  To  make  my  sovereign  Em- 
press of  India! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Hushed]    Empress  of  India! 

DISRAELI.    It    sounds    well,    eh,    Mary?  —  Mary, 

you  shall  be  my  messenger  when  the  time  is  ripe. 

You,  Lady  Beaconsfield,  shall  carry  the  news  to  our 

beloved   Queen.     And   you  shall  be  there,  and   you 

86 


DISRAELI 

shall  be  proud,  when  I  stand  up  to  announce  the  new 
title  to  Her  Majesty's  faithful  Commons! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Wistfully]  Yes!  —  Dizzy  — 
how  soon  will  that  be? 

DISRAELI.  Oh!  some  time  must  elapse.  [Alluding 
to  the  telegram,  which  he  lays,  with  the  code,  on  the  writing 
table,  placing  a  paper  weight  on  them]  This  must  be 
formally  ratified.  Popular  feeling  must  be  created; 
the  Party  educated. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [More  wistfutty;  sadly,  but  with 
a  smile]  Make  haste,  Dizzy. 

DISRAELI  [Laughing]     You  impatient  woman! 

CLARISSA  [Recovering]  Will  Charles  come  back 
soon,  now? 

DISRAELI.  Another  impatient  woman!  —  [Attend- 
ing to  telegram]  I  must  telegraph  this  to  Meyers. 
[Sitting  down  R.  of  table] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Yes!  — 

DISRAELI  [Writing]  He  made  it  possible.  —  An- 
other Jew,  Mary!  —  There  '11  be  a  peerage  for  him. 
How  furious  poor  old  Probert  will  be!  [Reads]  "Hugh 
Meyers,  London  Wall.  The  Suez  Canal  purchase  is 
completed,  and  the  cheque  accepted." 

CLARISSA  [Coming  to  him  impatiently]  You  have 
not  answered  my  question.  Will  Charles  come  home 
soon? 

DISRAELI  [Turning  to  her]  Yes!  with  trumpets 
blowing,  drums  beating,  flags  flying  —  ! 

CLARISSA.     Oh!    I  don't  care  anything  about  that! 

DISRAELI.     And  wedding  bells  ringing  —  ! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [At  the  window,  looking  off]  A 
station  cab!  Can  that  be  Mrs.  Travers? 

DISRAELI  [Suddenly  arrested.     Rising   with  the  tele- 
gram he  has  been  writing  in  his  hand]    Mrs.  Travers? 
87 


DISRAELI 

We  can't  have  Mrs.  Travers  here  now!  She'd  worm 
this  out  of  us  in  five  minutes.  She'd  see  it  on  all  our 
faces. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Laughing]  Oh,  Dizzy!  You 
made  me  invite  her! 

DISRAELI.  Get  rid  of  her.  Send  her  away!  Kill 
her! 

[Enter  B ASCOT,  L.,  with  a  card  on  saker] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Dizzy! 

DISRAELI.  Both  of  you.  Set  your  wits  to  work. 
Tell  her  —  tell  her  I  'm  very  ill  —  very  ill  indeed! 
[He  reads  the  card]  [Excitedly]  Hugh  Meyers!  It  '3 
Hugh  Meyers!  —  Show  him  in  at  once! 

[Exit  BASCOT  L.] 

DISRAELI.  That's  splendid!  Is  it  possible  he  has 
heard  the  news? 

CLARISSA.     Can  Charles  have  cabled  to  him? 

DISRAELI.  No!  These  financiers  know  everything 
by  a  sort  of  instinct.  If  he's  come  to  tell  us  don't 
spoil  his  effect;  don't  tell  him.  I'll  spring  it  on  him. 
[Flourishing  the  telegram  and  then  placing  it  on  the  table] 

[BASCOT  enters  door  L.    Enter  MEYERS.    He  is 
obviously  in  great  mental  distress] 

Good  morning,  Mr.  Meyers.     Delighted  to  see  you!  — 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  How  do  you  do,  Mr.  Meyers 
—  Lady  Pevensey  — 

MEYERS  [Bowing  to  one  and  the  other}  Good  morn- 
ing —  er  —  good  morning. 

DISRAELI.    What  happy  wind  —  ? 

MEYERS.  Can  I  have  a  few  minutes  in  private 
with  you,  sir? 

PISRAELI.    Oh  —  these  ladies  are  — 
88 


DISRAELI 

METERS.    Forgive  me,  if  I  insist. 

DISRAELI  [Struck  by  his  manner]  Why  —  of  course  — 
Mary  —  ?  [Goes  to  door  R.  and  opens  it] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    You  will  stay  to  lunch? 

METERS.  I  am  sorry  that  is  impossible.  Thank 
you  very  much. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Also  struck  by  his  manner] 
Come,  Clarissa. 

[Exeunt  LADT  BEACONSFIELD  and  CLARISSA] 

DISRAELI  [Heartily;  coming  over  towards  table  L.  and 
picking  up  the  telegram  for  an  instant]  Mr.  Meyers,  I 
was  just  about  to  send  you  a  telegram  — 

METERS  [Not  to  be  turned  from  his  subject]  One 
moment,  sir.  I  want  you  to  hear  me  first.  What  I 
have  come  to  say  — 

DISRAELI  [Putting  down  the  telegram,  coming  over 
and  looking  at  him  keenly]  Oh?  [Quietly]  Well,  sit 
down  —  sit  down.  [METERS  drops  mechanically  on 
the  sofa.  DISRAELI  brings  a  chair  from  behind  the  sofa 
and  sits  beside  him] 

DISRAELI  [Gently]    Well? 

MEYERS.  I  don't  know  how  to  tell  you.  It's  so 
much  harder  than  I  expected  — 

DISRAELI  [Gently]    Well  —  Tell  me  —  Tell  me. 

MEYERS.     I  —  I  —  Mr.  Disraeli  —  I  am  bankrupt. 

DISRAELI.     What?  —  I  did  n't  catch  — 

MEYERS.     My  house  is  bankrupt. 

DISRAELI  [Stunned]  Bankrupt — Meyers  bankrupt — ! 
Are  you  mad? 

MEYERS.    I  wish  to  God  I  were! 

DISRAELI.  You  mean  you  are  temporarily  pressed 
• —  you  are  in  temporary  difficulties  — 

METERS.    I  mean  we  are  bankrupt. 
89 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.    But  —  but!  Oh!  the  thing  is  impossible! 

MEYERS.     It  is  the  truth. 

DISRAELI.  But  how?  —  A  house  like  yours  —  an 
historical  firm?  Why,  you  might  as  well  say  the  Bank 
of  England  — 

MEYERS.     So  I  should  have  thought  — 

DISRAELI  [Rising  and  standing  over  him.  With  an 
outburst  of  rage]  Why,  what  have  you  been  doing?  — 
what  — 

MEYERS.    Stop!    Stop!  —  It's  not  our  fault  — 

DISRAELI  [Mastering himself]  Well!  Explain.  lam 
waiting  — 

MEYERS.  First,  the  ship  —  with  the  bullion  — 
from  the  Argentine  — 

DISRAELI.    Yes? 

MEYERS.    Gone  down. 

DISRAELI.    Wrecked? 

MEYERS.    Scuttled! 

DISRAELI.    You  mean  — ? 

MEYERS.  I  mean  purposely  and  criminally  sunk  — 
all  the  crew  saved  —  a  conspiracy !  —  It  will  take 
weeks  —  months  —  to  get  the  insurance.  And  that  is 
not  all  — 

DISRAELI.    What  else? 

MEYERS.  For  a  long  time  —  ever  since  our  inter- 
view in  Downing  Street  —  rumours  affecting  my  credit 
have  been  spread  abroad  —  and  now  —  this  mysterious 
wreck.  I  am  being  pressed  — 

DISRAELI  [Beginning  to  see  the  working  of  MRS. 
TRAVERS  and  Russia]  I  see  —  I  see  — 

MEYERS.     Some  enormous  power  has  been  at  work 

in  the  dark.     My  liabilities  have  been  bought  up  — 

[DISRAELI  gives  a  fierce  exclamation  —  "Ah!"]  Ah!  be 

as  angry  as  you  like.    You  are  justified.    I  have  been 

90 


DISRAELI 

an  honest  man  all  my  life,  and  now  I  stand  before 
you  in  the  light  of  a  common  cheat! 

DISRAELI  [Coming  slowly  to  him  and  offering  his  hand] 
Mr.  Meyers,  I  know  you,  sir.  [MEYERS  shakes  his 
hand,  but  cannot  speak] 

DISRAELI  [Mastering  himself]  Tell  me  —  you  say 
some  power  is  behind,  active  in  this.  Whom  do  you 
mean? 

METERS  {Putting  himself  together]  I  don't  know. 
They  have  acted  through  an  agent  — 

DISRAELI.    Well!    Who  is  that? 

METERS.    Samuel  Lewin. 

DISRAELI.    The  great  solicitor? 

METERS.    Yes. 

DISRAELI.    Does  anybody  else  know? 

METERS.  Not  a  living  soul.  [DISRAELI  moves 
away  towards  table  L.]  I  have  come  to  you  first,  because 
of  course  we  cannot  carry  out  the  Canal  contract. 
Thank  Heaven  I  am  in  time!  Thank  Heaven  that  has 
not  gone  through! 

[DISRAELI  picks  up  the  telegram  he  was  about  to  send 
METERS  and  holds  it  out  to  him.  METERS  takes 
it,  looking  inquiringly  at  DISRAELI;  reads  it,  and 
then  stands  horror-stricken] 

METERS.    Good  God! 

[DISRAELI  sinks  into  chair  R.  of  table.    A  pause] 

DISRAELI.  When  will  it  be  known,  Meyers?  When 
will  it  be  known? 

METERS  [Voiceless]   To-night.   To-morrow  morning. 

DISRAELI  [Breaking  out]  By  the  Lord  it  shall  not! 
Get  back  to  town!  Quickly!  Get  to  your  office.  Stay 
91 


DISRAELI 

there!  Stay  there!  I  must  know  you  are  there!  Don't 
budge  if  I  keep  you  there  all  night. 

MEYERS.    But  —  ! 

DISRAELI.  And  don't  breathe  a  word!  Don't  let 
anyone  else.  Don't  give  the  slightest  hint  of  anything 
unusual.  Treat  the  wreck  lightly.  Watch  your 
words;  watch  your  looks.  Something  may  happen. 
Something  shall  happen! 

MEYERS  [With  a  touch  of  hope]    What,  sir?  —  what? 

DISRAELI.  God  knows!  —  God  knows!  [MEYERS 
tries  to  say  good-bye.  DISRAELI  cuts  him  short]  Yes, 
yes.  [MEYERS  exit  L.] 

DISRAELI.  [Remains  near  the  table  dazed.  He  goes  up 
to  the  window  and  takes  a  deep  draught  of  air;  then  un- 
steadily makes  his  way  to  door  R.,  which  he  opens,  and 
calls]  Mary!  —  Mary!  [He  leaves  the  door  and  goes 
slowly  down  to  the  table] 

[Enter  LADY  BEACONSFIELD] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Yes,  dear? 

DISRAELI.     Shut  the  door,  Mary. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Does  so,  then  comes  down  to 
him  anxiously]  What  is  it? 

DISRAELI.  Mary,  you  have  stood  by  me  in  many 
horrible  predicaments.  I  am  in  the  worst  I  was 
ever  in. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Dizzy!  —  Meyers? 

DISRAELI.     Meyers  is  bankrupt! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Quite  simply]  Does  that  mean 
we  are  poor? 

DISRAELI.  No,  no!  [Crying  out  in  despair]  Oh!  If 
that  were  all! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Then  —  ? 
92 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Meyers  was  finding  the  money  for  the 
Canal  — 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Ah — ! 

DISRAELI.  Wait!  —  Deeford  has  handed  in  the 
cheque — now  Meyers  has  failed — and  we  cannot  pay. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    And  you?  — 

DISRAELI  [Amazed]    I  —  ? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Simply]  Yes,  dear.  I  want 
to  know  how  this  will  affect  you. 

DISRAELI.     What  does  that  matter? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    It 's  all  that  matters  to  me. 

DISRAELI.  I  have  n't  thought  of  it.  What  will 
happen  to  me?  Disgrace  utter  and  irretrievable  — 
the  kind  of  disgrace  no  man  can  bear  —  no  man  can 
live  through. 

LADY  BEACONSFIEID  [Gently  putting  her  hand  on  hit 
arm]  Dizzy! 

DISRAELI.  Yes!  By  Heavens  I  will  bear  it!  I  '11 
face  the  nation.  I'll  bear  it  —  alone! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Laying  her  hand  on  his  arm 
tenderly]  Not  alone,  dear. 

DISRAELI  [Breaking  down,  he  sinks  into  chair  R.  of 
table  and  buries  his  head  in  her  arm]  Thank  God  for 
you,  Mary!  Thank  God  for  you! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Weeping,  but  mastering  her- 
self] Have  you  done  anything,  yet? 

DISRAELI  [Helplessly]    So  soon?    What  could  I  do? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [With  assumed  cheeriness] 
Should  n't  we  go  up  to  town? 

DISRAELI.  I  can't.  I  dare  not.  I  cannot  move 
secretly-  The  Prime  Minister  cannot  stir  without 
setting  the  whofe  world  agog.  The  papers  have  said 
1  am  ill.  If  I  were  seen  in  Downing  Street  now,  in 
the  recess,  when  I  am  supposed  to  be  ill,  every  news- 
93 


DISRAELI 

paper  in  the  world  would  grow  hysterical.     It's  hor- 
rible, Mary.     I  am  tied,  hand  and  foot. 

[Enter  BASCOT  L.] 

BASCOT  [Announcing]    Mrs.  Travers. 

DISRAELI  [Almost  with  a  shout,  and  leaping  to  his 
feet]  What? 

BASCOT.    Mrs.  Travers,  in  a  station  cab,  sir. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Hurriedly]    I  '11  get  rid  of  her ! 

DISRAELI  [Turning  on  her]  Get  rid  of  her?  —  Mr. 
Bascot,  ask  her  to  wait,  and  show  her  in  when  I  ring! 

[Exit  BASCOT  L.] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Surely  you'll  not  receive  her 
now! 

DISRAELI.  Yes!  And  keep  her  here!  Keep  her 
here! 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Why? 

DISRAELI.  She  must  stay  here.  She  must  not  be 
allowed  out  of  our  sight!  If  she  gets  the  slightest 
hint  that  I  am  making  any  movement  —  [He  goes 
quickly  to  the  cupboard,  takes  off  his  coat,  and  puts  on 
a  dressing  gown,  which  he  takes  out  of  the  cupboard] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Amazed]  Dizzy!  —  What  is 
this  play-acting? 

DISRAELI  [Grimly]  I  am  ill.  Very  ill.  The  papers 
say  I  'm  ill.  She  shall  see  the  sickest  man  she  ever 
saw  in  her  life! 

[Enter  CLARISSA  JR.] 

CLARISSA  [Eagerly]  Mrs.  Travers  is  here!  Shall 
I  send  her  away? 

DISRAELI.  No,  no,  no!  [Goes  to  bell-pull]  Chain 
her  —  [Rings]  hand  and  foot!  [He  sits  on  the  sofa] 

CLARISSA  [Astonished]     But,  Mr.  Disraeli  —  ! 
94 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Hush!  I'm  ill.  [Suddenly  his  eye  rests 
on  the  medicine  bottle  and  small  glass  on  the  mantelpiece; 
he  places  the  table  beside  the  sofa,  takes  down  the  bottle  and 
glass,  puts  them  on  it;  then  throws  himself  on  the  sofa] 
I  am  very  ill! 

[Enter  MRS.  TRAVBRS,  L.    She  is  more  ravishing 
than  ever] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Comes  forward  gushingly  to  LADY 
BEACONSFIELD]  Ah  —  !  Dear  Lady  Beaconsfield  — 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Puts  her  finger  to  her  lips] 
Sh— ! 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Seeing  DISRAELI;  hushed]  Oh!  — 
I'm  so  sorry!  I  heard  Mr.  Disraeli  was  ill.  I  did  not 
know  whether  to  come  or  not.  I  am  quite  sure  you 
cannot  want  me  —  [Moves  as  if  to  withdraw] 

DISRAELI  [In  a  weak  voice]  Is  that  Mrs.  Travers, 
Mary? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    Yes,  dear! 

DISRAELI  [Feebly]    Oh,  ho  —  ho  —  ho  —  ho  —  ho! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  I  had  no  idea  you  were  so  ill.  I 
won't  stay  a  moment  — 

DISRAELI  [Rising  a  little  and  holding  out  a  weak  and 
wavering  hand  to  her]  Sweet  Mrs.  Travers!  So  good 
of  you.  I'm  very  weak  —  very  weak. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Puts  her  lace  scarf  on  the  table  and 
comes  over  to  him  taking  his  hand  in  a  great  show  of  sym- 
pathy] I'm  so  sorry.  What  is  the  matter? 

DISRAELI.  Well,  I'm  —  I 'm  very  weak.  But  very 
glad  to  see  you.  So  bright!  So  young!  So  —  How 
is  your  husband? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Behind  sofa,  holding  his  hand]  How 
good  of  you  to  ask!  —  He's  at  Marienbad. 

DISRAELI.  And  you've  come  to  see  the  sick  man. 
95 


DISRAELI 

Is  n't  it  good  of  her,  Mary?  —  Do  sit  down!  —  there  — 
where  I  can  see  you!  [Indicates  chair  R.  of  table. 
CLARISSA  standing  behind  the  chair  qffers  it  to  her] 

MRS.  TBAVERS  [Turns  to  CLARISSA,  takes  her  hands 
and  sits  in  chair]  Sweet  Clarissa  —  !  More  beautiful 
every  day!  —  I  saw  the  dear  Duchess  — your  mother 
—  yesterday.  She  is  so  very  anxious  about  Lord 
Deeford.  He's  abroad,  isn't  he?  Egypt,  or  some- 
where? [CLARISSA  nervously  turns  to  DISRAELI,  who 
nods  his  head  to  her] 

CLARISSA.    Yes,  he  is  abroad. 

DISRAELI.  Yes,  he  is  in  Egypt.  [CLARISSA  and 
LADY  BEACONSFIELD  exchange  a  glance  of  surprise] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  I  do  hope  he 's  not  too  venturesome. 
Cairo  is  such  a  dreadful  place.  Those  Orientals,  you 
know,  one  can  never  trust  them  — 

DISRAELI.    No! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    So  sly! 

DISRAELI.    Terrible! 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    So  deceitful! 

DISRAELI.  Ah!  [CLARISSA  goes  to  LADY  BEACONS- 
FIELD]  Dear,  sympathetic  creature  —  is  n't  she  sym- 
pathetic, Mary?  But  don't  be  uneasy.  We  have  just 
heard  from  Deeford.  [Lies  down  utterly  exhausted] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [With  difficulty  suppressing  her 
curiosity]  Indeed? 

DISRAELI  [In  the  voice  of  a  dying  man]  Mary,  is  n't 
it  time  for  my  beef  tea? 

[This  is  almost  too  much  for  LADY  BEACONSFIELD 
and  CLARISSA,  who  have  the  greatest  difficulty  in 
keeping  their  countenances] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     You  say  you  have  heard? 
DISRAELI  [Seeming  to  have  for  gotten  her  existence]    Oh, 
96 


DISRAELI 

Mrs.  Travers  —  from  Deeford?  Yes,  we  had  a  tele- 
gram. Where  is  that  telegram?  Help  me  up,  Mary. 
[LADY  BEACONSFIELD  helps  him]  Ah!  —  There,  on 
the  table.  Read  it  for  yourself,  Mrs.  Travers.  [MRS. 
TRAVERS  picks  it  up  and  reads  the  telegram.  DISRAELI 
faces  the  mirror  over  the  fireplace]  [Looking  into  the 
mirror]  Heavens!  How  pale  I  am!  [CLARISSA  comes 
to  C.i  watching  MRS.  TRAVERS] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Reading]  "The  celery  is  ripe  to 
cut."  —  How  odd! 

CLARISSA.    Yes. 

DISRAELI  [Looking  into  mirror]    Why  odd? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Smiling  and  putting  down  the  tele- 
gram] That  anyone  should  cable  all  the  way  from 
Egypt  about  celery.  [Her  eyes  fall  on  the  green  code 
and  seeing  that  apparently  no  one  is  watching,  she 
gradually  draws  it  toward  her,  and  crumples  it  into  her 
hand] 

DISRAELI  [Watching  her  in  the  mirror]  Oh,  you 
know  he's  engaged  in  a  very  interesting  agricultural 
experiment.  You  remember  the  discussion  we  were 
having  at  Glastonbury  Towers  on  this  very  subject. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Crumpling  the  code  into  her  hand] 
Oh  yes!  —  Glastonbury  Towers!  Such  a  delightful 
party!  And  all  dispersed.  Lord  Deeford  in  Egypt  — 
poor  Mr.  Disraeli  very  ill  —  Sir  Michael  Probert  out  of 
town  — 

DISRAELI  [With  a  start,  which  he  suppresses]  Pro- 
bert! 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Rising  and  slipping  the  code  into 
the  glove  of  her  right  hand.  Astonished]  I  beg  your 
pardon?  [She  looks  about  for  a  way  of  escape,  to  read 
the  code] 

DISRAELI  [Blandly]  A  twinge.  I  am  so  much 
97 


DISRAELI 

obliged  to  you.    I  have  been  trying  to  remember  his 
name  all  the  morning.    Of  course,  Probert. 

MRS.  TRAVEBS  [Looking  towards  the  window]  Oh! 
—  Is  that  one  of  the  famous  peacocks?  [Goes  up 
towards  window] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Intercepting  her  near  window] 
Dizzy 's  very  proud  of  them,  and  of  the  swans. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  I've  heard  so  much  about  them. 
May  I  go  and  look  at  them?  [LADY  BEACONSFIELD 
takes  her  right  arm  and  gently  endeavours  to  detain 
her] 

DISRAELI  [Signalling  to  CLARISSA,  who  comes  down 
to  him  quickly]  She  has  the  code!  Don't  let  her  read 
it  yet.  Follow  her!  Stick  to  her!  [CLARISSA  goes  up 
to  MRS.  TRAVERS,  taking  her  left  arm] 

CLARISSA.  I'll  show  you  their  houses.  [She  takes 
charge  of  MRS.  TRAVERS  and  leads  her  out] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Viciously]     Oh,  don't  trouble  — 

DISRAELI  [To  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  hurriedly  cross- 
ing to  table,  taking  out  a  sheet  of  paper  and  writing] 
Mary,  I  want  you  to  fetch  Probert  at  once. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Going  towards  bell-putt  down 
R.]  I'll  order  the  carriage! 

DISRAELI  [Writing]  Wait!  Is  Mrs.  Travers'  cab 
still  there? 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  I  '11  see.  [Goes  to  window  and 
looks  off  to  L.]  Yes,  dear.  [Comes  down  to  table  above 
DISRAELI] 

DISRAELI.    Well,  take  that. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Oh!  —  but  if  he  refuses  to 
come! 

DISRAELI  [Still  writing]  Say  it's  a  matter  of  life 
and  death. 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.    But  —  Mrs.  Travers  —  ? 
98 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  I'll  look  after  her.  Mary,  take  Clarissa 
with  you.  I  want  that  woman  alone!  [Finishing 
writing  and  looking  at  paper]  That  must  be  signed  — 
that  must  be  signed. 

I  [MRS.  TRAVERS  and  CLARISSA  are  heard  returning 
from  the  garden;  DISRAELI  quickly  goes  to  the  sofa 
and  sits.  Re-enter  MRS.  TRAVERS  and  CLARISSA 
from  the  garden.  CLARISSA  has  linked  her  right 
arm  in  MRS.  TRAVERS'  left;  obviously  never  having 
let  go.  MRS.  TRAVERS  somewhat  irritated  dis- 
engages herself  from  CLARISSA  as  they  come 
into  the  room] 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Snappishly]  They  are  beautiful! 
[To  LADY  BEACONSFIELD]  And  so  tame!  [CLARISSA 
exchanges  a  glance  with  DISRAELI  and  shakes  her  head 
negatively  to  show  that  poor  MRS.  TRAVERS  has  had  no 
chance  to  read  the  code] 

DISRAELI.  So  glad  you  like  them!  [Indicating 
settee]  Come  and  sit  down. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Fidgety  and  moving  as  if  to  go]  I 
ought  really  to  be  going  — 

DISRAELI.  No,  no!  Sit  down.  Lady  Beaconsfield 
and  Clarissa  have  to  go  and  meet  the  specialist.  [CLAR- 
ISSA, puzzled,  is  about  to  speak,  but  LADY  BEACONS- 
FIELD  motions  her  to  silence] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD.  Come,  Clarissa.  [To  MRS. 
TRAVERS]  We  shall  only  be  gone  a  very  few  minutes. 
[Exeunt  CLARISSA  followed  by  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  L.] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    A  specialist?    Are  you  so  ill? 

DISRAELI.  Yes;  but  he'll  cure  me.  He'll  cure  me. 
Now  you  must  stay  and  nurse  the  poor  sick  man. 

MRS.   TRAVERS.     I  'm  so  dreadfully  sorry,  but  — 
[DISRAELI  takes  her  right  hand,  and  draws  her  down] 
99 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  No,  no!  You  must  stay  till  they  come 
i*ack. 

MBS.  TR AVERS.  Indeed  no!  My  cab  is  waiting. 
[Sitting  down  beside  him] 

DISRAELI.    No.     I  've  sent  that  away. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [A  trifle  indignant]    Really  —  ! 

DISRAELI.  Ah,  don't  be  angry  —  [Fondling  her 
hand]  The  dainty  hand  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Smiling,  but  not  quite  sure  of  herself] 
Please  — 

DISRAELI  [Toying  vrith  it]  The  supple  fingers  —  so 
long  and  thin  —  so  exquisitely  shaped  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Protesting  coquettishly]  Mr.  Dis- 
raeli —  ! 

DISRAELI.  So  quick  to  grasp  things  —  unconsidered 
trifles  —  scraps  of  paper! 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Frightened]  Let  me  go!  You  are 
hurting! 

DISRAELI  [Holding  her  tight]  In  such  a  hurry  to  get 
away  from  the  poor  sick  man  —  to  get  away  —  and 
read  —  [He  takes  the  code  out  of  her  glove  and  holds  it  up] 
the  code? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Facing  him,  at  bay]  Well?  What 
of  it? 

DISRAELI.  Ah,  that 's  better.  That 's  how  I  re- 
member you. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    Remember  me? 

DISRAELI.  Yes.  When  we  met  at  the  Towers  — 
so  curious  —  I  remembered  you,  but  I  could  n't  place 
you.  I  connected  you  with  something  blue  and 
white  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [With  fear  in  her  eyes,  but  a  laugh  on 
her  lips]  Milk  and  water? 

DISBAEU.  Nol  Snow  and  water.  Mont  Blanc 
100 


DISRAELI 

and  the  Lake  of  Geneva.  [Mas.  TRAVERS  starts] 
Geneva  in  the  sixties.  Russian  refugees  and  their 
English  sympathisers.  A  man  called  Lumley,  and  his 
ravishing  —  shall  I  say  —  wife?  [She  looks  at  him 
quickly]  No  —  Comrade  was  their  word.  Charming 
relationship.  That  delightful  couple  —  so  good  to 
the  unhappy  exiles!  But  people  are  cruel.  They 
said  kind  Mr.  Lumley  and  his  lovely  —  comrade  — 
were  agents,  —  decoys  in  Russian  pay,  engaged  in 
worming  out  the  secrets  of  the  refugees,  —  in  tempting 
them  back  to  Russia  —  to  Siberia  —  to  death.  [Mas. 
TRAVERS'  face  has  assumed  an  expression  of  horror  at 
the  memory  of  the  past.  A  stifled  cry  escapes  her  lips, 
but  she  recovers  herself  and  smilingly  turns  to  DISRAELI] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  And  pray  what  has  all  this  to  do 
with  me? 

DISRAELI.  Ah,  what  indeed?  You,  the  friend  of 
Duchesses — !  of  Dukes  — !  Good  Mr.  Lumley  and  his 
charming  comrade  were  driven  out  of  Geneva  by  the 
slanderers;  and  where  do  you  think  I  saw  him  next? 
In  Downing  Street.  He  had  changed  his  name  to 
Foljambe.  I  was  so  very  sorry  for  him  I  gave  him 
work.  But  you  did  better.  You  gave  him  instruc- 
tions to  hurry  to  Trieste.  [With  the  ring  on  his  finger, 
he  raps  on  the  table,  reminding  her  of  her  signal  to  FOL- 
JAMBE in  Act  77]  Now  do  I  remember  you,  dear  Mrs. 
Lumley-Travers-Foljambe  — 

MBS.  TRAVERS  [Calmly]    And  —  what  next? 

DISRAELI.  Admiration.  Profound  admiration,  till 
this  moment.  To-day  you  have  disappointed  me. 
[Holding  up  the  code]  Why  steal  this?  Weak;  very  weak. 
You  had  only  to  ask  me,  and  I  would  have  told  you. 
"The  celery  is  ripe  to  cut"  means  "The  Suez  Canal 
Purchase  is  completed  and  the  cheque  accepted." 
101 


DISftAELI 

Poor  dear  Lumley-Folj«mbe  has  had  all  that  tire- 
some journey  for  nothing. 

MBS.  TBAVERS  [Laughing  triumphantly]  I  congratu- 
late you.  Your  apple-faced  boy  has  blundered  into 
success  — 

DISRAELI.    That 's  all  any  of  us  do. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Into  a  success  that  will  cost  you 
dear. 

DISRAELI  [Wearily]  That 's  the  sort  of  thing  Glad- 
stone will  say. 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Triumphantly]  It 's  what  the  world 
will  say  when  it  knows  Meyers  is  bankrupt. 

DISRAELI  [Pretending  amazement]     When  it  knows 

—  what? 

MRS.  TRAVERS  [Leaning  over  him  and  repeating  it 
sweetly  but  urith  fiendish  delight]  Meyers  is  bankrupt  — 
bankrupt  —  bankrupt  — 

DISRAELI  [Weakly]    Mrs.  Travers  —  I  am  very  ill 

—  don't  —  don't  jest  with  me. 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Meyers  is  bankrupt  —  and  his 
cheque  waste  paper. 

DISRAELI  [Rising  as  if  dazed]  Wait  —  wait  —  Let 
me  gather  my  wits  —  Ah,  it 's  easy  enough  for  you 
to  say  so,  but  why  should  I  believe  you?  [Sinking  on 
sofa  again] 

MRS.  TRAVERS.  Bemuse  it  was  my  invention.  You 
thought  to  circumvent  me  with  your  apple-faced  boy? 
What  do  you  say  now?  [Rising  and  snapping  her 
fingers  at  him  *h*  goes  down  L.] 

DISRAELI.  You  can't  expect  me  to  say  much.  I  — 
4  am  a  child  in  your  hands. 

[Enter  LADY  BEACONSPIELD,  SIR  MICHAEL  PRO- 
BERT  and  CLARISSA  L.] 
102 


DISRAELI 

PROBERT.  Now,  Mr.  Disraeli,  I  am  very  sorry  to 
hear  you  are  ill.  [PROBERT  comes  to  DISRAELI,  and 
shakes  hands  with  him.  LADY  BEACONSFIELO  and 
CLARISSA  cross  and  sit  on  the  fender-seat] 

DISRAELI  [Rising]  I  am  so  much  better.  Mrs. 
Travers'  stimulating  company  — 

MRS.  TRAVERS.     Sir  Michael  Probert? 

PROBERT  [Seeing  her]     How  do  you  do? 

MRS.  TRAVERS.    But  he  's  not  — ! 

DISRAELI  [Taking  off  his  dressing  gown  and  throwing 
it  on  sofa]  A  specialist?  Oh  yes,  he  is! 

PROBERT  [Surprised]  What 's  going  on?  If  you 
are  not  ill  why  have  you  sent  for  me? 

DISRAELI.  Sit  down,  Probert.  I  want  to  tell  you 
a  little  story.  [To  MRS.  TRAVERS,  who  starts  to  go] 
No,  don't  go,  Mrs.  Travers;  this  will  interest  you.  [She 
sits  L.  of  table] 

PROBERT  [With  growing  suspicion]  I  repeat.  Why 
have  you  sent  for  me? 

DISRAELI.     I  told  you  I  might  send  for  you. 

PROBERT.    When?    What  do  you  mean? 

DISRAELI.  When  we  had  that  delightful  interview 
at  Glastonbury  Towers. 

PROBERT.  Ha!  I  thought  as  much.  Your  hare- 
brained scheme.  Moses  has  failed  you  and  you 
had  to  give  it  up.  Well,  it 's  no  use  appealing 
to  me. 

DISRAELI.  Moses  has  not  failed  me.  I  have  carried 
the  scheme  through. 

PROBERT.  What?  Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you 
have  purchased  the  Suez  Canal? 

DISRAELI.  The  power  and  the  glory  of  my  country 
were  at  stake.  I  had  to  act  quickly  and  I  had  to  act 
on  my  own  responsibility. 

103 


DISRAELI 

PBOBERT  [Sternly]  Then  let  me  tell  you,  sir,  you 
have  committed  a  crime. 

DISRAELI.  As  Parliament  was  not  sitting  to  vote 
the  money  I  had  to  seek  it  elsewhere.  Five  million 
sterling.  You  refused. 

PROBERT.    I  did  and  I  am  proud  of  it. 

DISRAELI.  So  I  went  to  the  wealthiest  private  firm 
—  to  Hugh  Meyers. 

PROBEHT.    Ha!    A  Jew! 

DISRAELI.  Meyers  not  being  a  Party-man  but  a 
Patriot,  saw  the  greatness  of  the  idea  and  stood  by  me. 
I  sent  Deeford  to  Ismail.  Spies  had  got  wind  of  what 
I  was  doing  and  Russia  knew;  so  Deeford  had  to  go 
in  a  hurry:  —  a  race  for  an  Empire!  He  has  succeeded ! 
Understand  me.  I  put  the  matter  quite  simply.  Dee- 
ford  has  bought  the  Canal  and  has  paid  for  it  with 
Meyers'  cheque  drawn  on  the  Bank  of  England. 
[PROBERT  starts]  Wait!  Meanwhile  Russia  has  been 
at  work  by  the  intermediary  [Bows  to  MRS.  TRAVERS] 
of  one  of  the  most  fascinating  women  of  my  acquaint- 
ance. —  Meyers  is  bankrupt. 

PROBERT.    What? 

DISRAELI.    Russia  has  ruined  him. 

PROBERT.  Mr.  Disraeli,  I  warned  you  of  this.  I 
foresaw  it.  Your  high-handed  action  has  landed  you 
just  where  I  said  it  would.  You  must  get  out  of  it  as 
best  you  can.  It  is  no  use  appealing  to  me.  [Rising] 

DISRAELI.  (No?  Then  I  will  not  appeal.  I  will 
command! 

PROBERT.    What! 

DISRAELI  [Going  to  the  table]  You  will  sign  this  note 
giving  Meyers  unlimited  credit. 

PROBERT.    I?    Are  you  mad? 

DISRAELI.  I  was  never  so  sane  in  my  life.  Meyers' 
104 


DISRAELI 

position  is  saved  if  he  can  gain  time.    The  Bank  of 
England  must  give  him  unlimited  credit,  to-day.    Now! 

PROBERT.  You  don't  know  what  you  are  saying. 
You  don't  know  to  whom  you  are  speaking.  I  refuse! 
[Movement  to  go] 

DISRAELI  [Intercepting  him]     You  can't! 

PROBERT.  I  refuse  emphatically.  You  have  mis- 
taken your  man.  I  am  an  Englishman;  the  head  of 
a  great  national  institution.  I  am  not  to  be  ordered 
about  by  an  —  by  an  alien  Jew.  [LADY  BEACONSFIELD 
rises] 

DISRAELI  [Calmly]  Ah,  but  the  alien  Jew  happens 
to  be  the  better  citizen;  moreover,  he  happens  to  be 
Prime  Minister. 

PROBERT.    Do  you  threaten  me? 

DISRAELI.     Yes,  if  you  force  me  to. 

PROBERT.     Empty  threats! 

DISRAELI.  Do  you  think  so?  You  say  the  Bank  is 
a  national  institution.  What  becomes  of  that  title 
if  it  refuses  to  save  the  nation?  —  What  becomes  of 
you? 

PROBERT.    Mr.  Disraeli  —  ! 

DISRAELI.  When  it  is  known  that  the  lack  of 
patriotism  of  one  man  has  placed  our  country  in  the 
position  of  a  person  who  is  trying  to  pass  a  fraudulent 
cheque;  exposed  the  nation  to  the  ridicule  of  the  world; 
lost  the  Canal;  lost  India;  baffled  England;  beaten  her, 
disgraced  her,  dragged  her  through  the  mud,  what 
becomes  of  the  Bank? 

PROBERT  [Violently]    You  cannot  touch  the  Bank! 

DISRAELI.  I  '11  smash  the  Bank!  [MRS.  TRAVERS 
and  CLARISSA  rise]  Parliament  granted  the  .Rank  its 
charter;  Parliament  can  withdraw  it. 

PROBERT.    Good  God! 

105 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  And  shall  withdraw  it  at  my  bidding! 
Your  board  of  directors  will  be  swept  away;  your 
shareholders  bankrupt,  the  Bank  ruined  and  you  dis- 
graced. I  am  Prime  Minister!  I  can  do  this,  and  if 
you  don't  sign,  by  God,  I  will!  [Pointing  imperiously 
to  the  paper]  Now! 

PROBERT  [After  some  hesitation,  crosses  to  the  table  and 
signs]  There,  take  your  paper.  I  have  signed  it. 
I  've  signed  it  to  save  the  Bank.  [He  staggers  to  the 
door.  Just  as  he  is  going]  It  is  outrageous  that  a 
man  like  you  should  have  such  power!  [Exit] 

[DISRAELI   comes   to   the   table   and   hands   MRS. 

TRAVERS  her  lace  scarf.     She  takes  it  and  slowly 

,        goes  to  the  door  L.;  then,  turning,  she  smiles  at  him, 

nods  her  head  pleasantly,   and  exit.     DISRAELI 

comes  to  the  centre  with  the  paper] 

CLARISSA  [Coming  to  him  with  joyous  enthusiasm] 
Oh,  Mr.  Disraeli,  thank  God  you  have  such  power! 

DISRAELI  [Whimsically]  I  have  n't,  dear  child;  but 
he  does  n't  know  that. 


CURTAIN 


100 


Courtesy  of  Mqffett  Studio,  Chicago 

Miss  ELSIE    LESLIE    AS    CLARISSA 


ACT  IV 

SCENE  —  In  Downing  Street 

The  Hall  of  Reception.  A  great  room  seen  at  an 
angle.  Down  left  is  the  Entrance  of  Honour:  great 
folding  doors  opening  outward.  Opposite,  on  the  right, 
is  a  similar  door.  The  rear  wall  goes  diagonally  up 
right,  and  consists  of  tall  arched  windows  divided  by 
pilasters  of  coloured  marble.  The  windows  are  hung 
with  scarlet  silk  curtains  with  gold  fringes  and  gold  ropes. 
Above  the  windows  are  gilt  festoons  of  cupids,  flowers,  etc. 
The  right  wall  consists  of  similar  pilasters,  but  between 
them  are  life-size,  full-length  portraits  of  Queen  Victoria 
and  Prince  Albert.  At  the  top,  on  the  right,  an  open 
archway  leads  off.  That  also  is  hung  with  scarlet  cur- 
tains. The  ceiling  is  elaborately  painted  in  fresco. 
From  the  ceiling  hangs  a  great  chandelier  with  many 
candles,  and  candelabra  are  fixed  on  the  watts .  The  floor 
is  of  highly  polished  parquetry,  but  a  narrow  scarlet  carpet 
is  spread  from  one  of  the  great  doors  to  the  other.  The 
general  effect  of  the  room  w  scarlet  and  white  and  gold. 
There  are  chairs  and  settees  with  scarlet  upholstery 
around  the  watts.  A  string-band  is  playing  waltzes  by 
Strauss  and  Gungl  in  the  inner  chamber  on  the  right.  The 
room  is  crowded  with  a  brilliant  throng.  Diplomats; 
English  and  foreign  naval  and  military  officers;  exotic 
personages;  Indian  Rajahs;  Turks;  the  Chinese  Am- 
bassador with  his  suite;  many  ladies;  att  are  in  full  uni- 
form or  in  Court  dress.  The  men  blaze  with  orders;  the 
107 


DISRAELI 

women  with  diamonds.  The  powdered  men-servants  are 
in  gala'Jivery.  All  the  people  we  know,  with  the  exception 
of  LADY  BEACONSFIELD,  are  present.  All  move  about; 
stream  in  and  out  through  the  arch  at  the  back.  There 
is  the  hubbub  of  animated  talk  and  laughter. 

[Scraps  of  conversation  emerge  from  the  general  talk] 

THE  DUKE  OF  GLASTONBUBY.  What  a  day  this  has 
been  for  Dizzy!  Eh,  Belinda? 

DUCHESS.     It  is  all  very  astonishing. 

DUKE.  They  say  the  Queen  is  delighted  with  her 
new  title  —  Empress  of  India! 

DUCHESS.  If  she  were  n't  pleased,  she  would  n't  be 
coming  to-night. 

DUKE.  And  how  Disraeli  swayed  the  House  just 
now,  when  he  announced  the  new  title! 

DUCHESS.    Ah!    He  's  a  great  man. 

DUKE.  What?  You've  come  round  to  that,  have 
you? 

DUCHESS.  I  never  denied  his  greatness.  [Anxiously] 
Any  news  of  Lady  Beaconsfield? 

DUKE.     I've  heard  nothing  —  Daren't  ask  Dizzy. 

SIB  MICHAEL  PBOBEBT  [Meeting  MEYEBS;  shaking 
hands,  patronisingly]  Well,  Meyers?  On  your  legs 
again? 

MEYEBS  [Modest  as  ever]  Thanks  to  you,  Sir 
Michael. 

PBOBEBT.  Yes,  yes;  great  patriotic  idea,  you  know. 
Dizzy  and  I  talked  it  over,  long  before  you  came  into  it. 

MEYEBS  [Simply]    So  he  told  me. 

PBOBEBT.  Oh,  yes!  And  the  Bank,  as  a  great 
patriotic  institution,  could  n't  let  it  drop. 

MEYEBS  [With  a  twinkle]  How  fortunate  you  saw 
it  in  that  light! 

108 


DISRAELI 

PROBERT  [Impervious  to  irony]  Oh!  Glad  to  help 
you!  Glad  to  help  you!  [MEYERS  turns  to  CLARISSA] 

MEYERS.  Ah,  Lady  Clarissa!  [Greetings]  So  Vis- 
count Deeford  has  come  home? 

CLARISSA.  Yes;  but  think  of  it!  —  I  have  not  been 
allowed  to  see  him  yet! 

MEYERS.     Too  bad!    Too  bad!     Why  not? 

CLARISSA.  Why,  he  arrived  only  half  an  hour  ago, 
and  he  had  to  come  straight  to  Downing  Street. 

MEYERS.    Naturally. 

[LORD  BROOKE  and  LORD  CUDWORTH  are  talking 
together;  LADY  BROOKE  and  LADY  CUDWORTH 
come  down  on  either  side] 

LADY  BROOKE  and  LADY  CUDWORTH  [Together]  Is 
it  true  the  Queen  's  coming  here  to-night? 

LORD  BROOKE  and  LORD  CUDWORTH  [Together] 
Don't  know,  I  'm  sure.  [They  turn  up  stage] 

LADY  BROOKE.  Don't  you  wish  our  husbands  had 
more  conversation? 

LADY  CUDWORTH.  They  have  so  little  to  say,  that 
the  less  they  talk  about  it,  the  better.  [They  go  up 
laughing] 

MEYERS  [To  CLARISSA]  They  say  Lady  Beacons- 
field  is  ill  — 

CLARISSA.    Mr.  Meyers,  I  am  dreadfully  anxious  — 

MEYERS.     Why?    Is  she  seriously  ill? 

CLARISSA.  I  don't  know;  I  don't  know.  And  I 
dare  n't  ask  Mr.  Disraeli.  Her  absence  to-night  is 
such  a  horrible  disappointment  for  him. 

PROBERT  [Joining  them  and  booming  genially]    It's 
nothing  to  be  frightened  about.    I  have  —  ah  —  special 
information.    Doctor  Williams.     Saw  him  a  few  days 
ago.     Nothing  unusual.     Fainting  fits. 
109 


DISRAELI 

(The  characters  have  wandered  up  towards  the  en- 
trance R.  about  which  they  are  now  gathered,  look- 
ing off  expectantly.  DISBAELI  is  approaching 
and  as  they  fall  back  to  make  way  for  him  several 
are  heard  saying:  "Ms.  DISBAELI  is  coming. 
—  Ah!  —  MB.  DISBAELI  —  DIZZY,"  etc.,  etc.] 

PBOBEBT  [Looking  towards  R.  entrance]  Ah!  War- 
wick, the  King- maker! 

MEYEBS  [Quietly]  Better  than  that.  Benjamin 
Disraeli  —  the  Jew  —  Empress-maker. 

[At  this  moment  DISBAELI  comes  in  through  the 
arch  at  the  back.  He  is  in  Court  dress,  with  all  his 
orders.  He  is  a  little  greyer  than  before.  He  walks 
with  his  hands  behind  his  back,  his  head  slightly 
bent,  as  if  oblivious  of  his  surroundings.  The 
crowd  make  way  for  him.  He  comes  to  centre] 

DUCHESS  [Going  up  to  him  gushingly]  Dear  Mr. 
Disraeli  — 

DISBAELI  [With  a  low  bow]  Duchess  —  charmed  — 
charmed  —  [He  tries  to  pass  on] 

DUCHESS.  So  very  sorry  dearest  Lady  Beacons- 
field  cannot  be  here  to-night! 

DISBAELI.    So  is  she  —  and  so  am  I  —  so  am  I. 

[The  DUKE  and  CLABISSA  exchange  glances  and 
endeavour  to  attract  the  DUCHESS'S  attention] 

DUCHESS.  But  I  'm  sure  it  is  only  a  passing  in- 
disposition. 

DISBAELI.  I  trust  so.  I  trust  so.  [He  turns  away, 
and  meets  CLABISSA,  who  comes  quickly  to  him.  In  a  tone 
of  deep  affection]  Dear  child. 

CLABISSA  [Quietly,  anxiously]     How  is  she,  really? 
110 


DISRAELI 

DISRAELI.  Don't  ask  me!  I  cannot  trust  myself 
to  speak.  I  am  horribly  anxious.  Doctor  Williams 
reassured  me,  or  I  should  not  be  here  —  not  even  to 
meet  the  Empress  of  India. 

[The  curtains  of  the  arch  R.  are  drawn  apart 
and  eight  FOOTMEN,  preceded  by  BASCOT  who 
bears  a  wand  and  motions  the  people  aside,  cross 
and  go  out  through  the  Entrance  of  Honour.  There 
is  a  loud  buzz  of  conversation,  which  grows  stronger 
as  the  FOOTMEN  disappear,  and  the  people  begin  to 
move  about  again.  Presently  the  DUKE,  PROBERT 
and  CLARISSA  notice  that  DISRAELI  is  speaking; 
they  signal  silence  to  the  others  and  the  conversation 
gradually  subsides.  DISRAELI  bows  his  head  in 
thanks  and  begins  again] 

DISRAELI  [Quietly,  but  in  a  voice  that  arrests  attention, 
to  that  presently  all  the  people  in  the  room  are  listening 
and  close  in  on  either  side  of  him]  Her  Majesty  is 
on  her  way  —  Before  she  arrives,  I  want  to  thank 
the  men  who  have  so  splendidly  stood  at  my  side  and 
made  our  enterprise  successful.  First,  there  is  Mr. 
Hugh  Meyers  — 

SEVERAL  VOICES  [Calling]  Mr.  Meyers!  Mr.  Mey- 
ers! [MEYERS  comes  forward  modestly  from  behind] 

DISRAELI  [Taking  his  hand]  — concerning  whose 
services  I  cannot  speak  too  highly.  —  Next  there  is  Sir 
Michael  Probert.  At  a  moment  of  grave  crisis  he 
came  to  my  aid,  against  his  —  may  I  call  them  — 
prejudices.  [Protest  from  SIR  MICHAEL]  Mr.  Meyers 
—  Sir  Michael  Probert,  it  is  my  privilege  to  inform 
you,  that  in  recognition  of  your  patriotic  action,  your 
sovereign  has  bestowed  a  peerage  on  each  of  you. 


DISRAELI 

[Applause:  the  crowd  moves  away] 

DISRAELI.  Lastly :  [Renewed  attention]  You  will  be 
glad  to  know  that  my  young  friend,  who  carried 
through  the  difficult  and  delicate  negotiations  with  such 
consummate  tact  —  I  refer  to  Charles,  Viscount  Dee- 
ford  —  arrived  in  London  half  an  hour  ago. 

[BASCOT  enters  R.] 
BASCOT  [Announces]    Viscount  Deeford. 

[CHARLES  enters  R.  DISRAELI  grasps  his  hand. 
Murmurs  of  approval  and  admiration  from  the 
crowd.  The  DUCHESS  crosses  to  CLARISSA] 

DISRAELI.  Deeford  —  Her  Majesty  desires  to  con- 
fer the  ribbon  of  the  Bath  upon  you  with  her  own 
hands. 

[Applause] 

[DISRAELI  presents  him  to  CLARISSA,  then  stands 
alone,  lost  in  thought,  The  crowd  breaks  into  talk. 
SIR  MICHAEL  PROBERT  and  HUGH  MEYERS  are 
surrounded  by  congratulating  friends.  The  DUKE 
and  MEYERS  join  him] 

[CLARISSA  and  CHARLES  stand  with  hands  gripped, 
gazing  at  each  other] 

CLARISSA  [Voiceless]    Charles  —  ! 
CHARLES.    Dear —  !    Oh,  hang  all  these  people! 
CLARISSA.    Oh,  why  did  n't  you  come  earlier? 
CHARLES.    I  had  to  see  Dizzy  and  get  into  this  rig. 

[The  DUCHESS  comes  up] 

DUCHESS.     Dear  Charles!  —  I   am   so   very  glad! 
[Greeting  from  LADY  CUDWOHTH  and  LADY  BROOKE, 
who  come  down  on  each  side  of  him] 
112 


DISRAELI 

LADT  CUDWOBTH.    Oh,  how  brown  you  are! 
LADY  BROOKE.    Quite  a  different  man! 
CHARLES.    No.    The    same    man,   but   I'  ve   seen 
things. 

[DISRAELI  is  talking  to  the  DUKE.  MR.  TEARLE 
enters  L.  and  brings  him  a  telegram.  DISRAELI 
pays  no  attention,  until  the  DUKE  points  to  the 
telegram.  Dead  silence.  Everybody  watches  with 
intense  interest] 

CHARLES.  Can't  we  get  away  somewhere  where  we 
can  talk? 

CLARISSA  [To  CHARLES,  in  a  whisper]    Look  —  ! 

CHARLES  [Surprised]    A  telegram!    Here? 

CLARISSA.    It  must  be  very  urgent.    I  am  frightened ! 

CHARLES.    Why? 

CLARISSA.  Hush!  Lady  Beaconsfield  has  been  very 
ill. 

CHARLES.  So  Dizzy  told  me.  But  you  don't 
mean  you  fear  —  ? 

CLARISSA    [Hushed]     It  may  be  news  of  her  death! 

CHARLES.    Good  God! 

CLARISSA.    Watch!    Watch! 

[DISRAELI  has  taken  the  telegram,  and  stands  rigid, 
not  daring  to  open  it.  The  DUKE  has  moved 
away  from  him,  so  that  he  stands  alone.  There  is 
a  burst  of  merry  music  from  the  inner  room.  A 
shiver  passes  over  DISRAELI.  At  this  moment  there 
is  a  movement  in  the  group  at  the  back,  R.  LADY 
BEACONSFIELD  enters  slowly  in  Court  dress  and 
crowned  with  a  diamond  tiara,  and  comes  down 
towards  DISRAELI,  who  has  his  back  to  her.  The 
crowd  are  about  to  exclaim,  but,  with  a  smile,  she 
118 


DISRAELI 

motions  them  to  silence.  She  comes  to  DISRAELI 
and  lays  her  hand  on  his  arm.  He  shudders 
and  turns  towards  her.  He  stares  at  her  blankly, 
not  trusting  his  senses] 

LADY  BEACONSFIELD  [Very  tenderly]    Dizzy! 
DISRAELI  [Hushed]    Mary!  —  I  did  n't  know  — 
LADY    BEACONSFIELD  [Smiling]    The    doctor    sent 
you  a  telegram,  dear. 

[A  military  band  off  left,  crashes  out  "God  Save 
the  Queen."  The  crowd  exclaim  "Ah!"  —  "  The 
Queen!"  and  line  up.  The  great  doors  on  the 
L.  are  thrown  open.  A  row  of  FOOTMEN  is  seen 
drawn  up  outside,  bearing  lighted  candelabra,  and 
there  is  a  great  blaze  of  light.  DISRAELI  draws 
himself  up.  He  gives  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  his 
right  hand,  and  they  go  out  slowly  to  meet  the  Queen. 
The  DUKE  and  Duchess  come  next,  CHARLES  and 
CLARISSA  follow,  and  the  others  fall  into  line,  as 
DISRAELI  and  LADY  BEACONSFIELD  begin  to  mote 
towards  the  Entrance  of  Honour] 


THE   CURTAIN   FALLS 


114 


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